


The Sewing Machine

by lambkt



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Abuse, Comfort, Domestic Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20643557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lambkt/pseuds/lambkt
Summary: Apollo’s violence towards Persephone escalates and she struggles to find her strength in the aftermath.





	1. Tap Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! First, thanks for coming. This is my first ever fanfic and I’m totally terrified to put this out there. This stemmed from a nightmare I had last night and this is how I’m coping *insert shrug*. Let me know what you think and if I should continue. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy, but be forewarned that these are the events after Persephone suffers some tramatic abuse at the hands of Apollo.

Apollo slammed the door and stormed out, leaving Persephone on the floor. She sat there unmoving, not crying, with a bruise starting to form under her eye where the sewing machine her mother gave her just yesterday had hit her. 

She tapped the ground lightly with her fists, so lightly she wasn’t sure if she had actually done it. Before she could question it Hades appeared before her.

“Ko-“ he started, then stopped when he looked down at her. She was on the ground with her legs tucked underneath her, surrounded by broken pieces of a sewing machine. She seemed deflated and her skin was so drained of color that she was almost pastel. She hadn’t even looked at him when he materialized. He got to his knees in front of her and reached out, gingerly taking her face in both hands. 

Persehpone jumped a little at his touch. Finally her eyes met his just as the reality of what had happened finally sunk in. Fresh tears started to form in her eyes. 

“K-Kore, what happened?” Hades asked slowly as he caught the falling tears with his thumb. Persephone flinched when he rubbed his finger over where she had just been hit. That’s when he noticed it. Worry and rage coated his features. His eyes started burning red and his blue skin became darker. He took his hands off her face and gently pushed her hair away that was now pooling around her. More bruises freckled her soft skin that he hadn’t seen with her hair in the way. The first one he noticed was the one in the shape of a hand print that reached completely around her upper arm. Then, his eyes met the bruise on her temple where the ichor had started to dry in her matted hair.

He could feel the rage burning inside of him as his eyes scanned over her. _Who did this to her? Why didn’t she summon me sooner? Why am I never around when she needs me?_ His skin now reflected the galaxies and his eyes could turn a mortal to stone with a single look. 

“Who did this to you?” he asked, in a strained voice just above a whisper. 

“I just don’t want to be alone,” she choked out. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, now sobbing. 

Hades was surprised by her sudden movement for a moment, but then wrapped her in a tight hug. In her embrace he started to calm, more for her than himself. He rubbed her back slowly, cautiously, not knowing if there were more injuries he couldn’t see. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she had stopped sobbing and was just sniffling every couple of seconds. Gently he broke their hug to look at her. 

“Sweetness, can I take you home with me? Just so I can get you cleaned up,” Hades asked, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

She nodded, burying her face in his shoulder again. A cool breeze surrounded them, and when it stopped Hades stood with Persephone still held securely against him. When she lifted her head they were no longer in her bedroom and she breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the familiar surroundings of Hades’ living room. 

Hades sat her on the couch and crouched down to meet her eyes. He placed a gentle hand under her chin and very carefully wiped away the tears from her cheeks. 

“I will be right back,” he said before disappearing down the hallway. Before Persephone could even think of the events that brought her here Hades had returned and was wrapping her in blanket. Slowly and as quietly as possible, as to not startle her, he rested the supplies he brought back with him on the coffee table. 

First he handed her a bag of peas wrapped in a towel. He wanted to laugh when she looked at him completely confused, but his eyebrows remained in a worried line. Hades moved the peas to her eye and guided her hand there to keep it in place. He went to reach for the scissors, but stopped suddenly and turned back to her. He was met with a sad, yet curious eye. “Can I help you with your hair?” Asked Hades, his hand still hovering over the scissors. 

Persephone nodded and turned so she was facing the back of the couch. “Thank you,” she whispered, so quietly he almost didn’t catch it. He cut her hair in small bits, careful not to tug too hard or move too quickly. 

After he was done cutting her hair Hades started on her temple with warm washcloth. The wound had already mostly healed, and there was a lot less ichor than it had seemed before. He rummaged through the first aid kit and put a dab of cream on his finger which he gently put on the cut. Satisfied, he released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and looked back at the pink goddess. 

“Does it hurt anywhere else?” Hades asked. 

Persephone smiled a little, appreciating his concern and thoroughness. “No, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” he frowned.

Persephone just looked at him. No, she wasn’t okay, but none of it felt real. She didn’t have the words. She looked at the ground as images of earlier started flooding back. _You’re weak, you couldn’t even defend yourself against him. You let this happen. Why did you just freeze? Why didn’t you fight back harder? I thought you could fight your own battles. Dumb village girl._

“Kore,” he sighed. His voice broke her train of thought and her eyes snapped back up to meet his. “Kore, what happened?” 

“I... Uhm, I-I’m not-, I’m really tired and I-,” she stammered as fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

Hades took her head in both of his hands again. “Shh, Sweetness, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it now, you’re safe here. Do you want to sleep?” 

Persephone nodded, removing the peas from her face to wipe the back of her hand across her cheeks. Without another word Hades picked her back up and brought her to the guest room. With one arm he moved the covers to the side before placing her on the bed. As he wrapped the blankets around her he gave her a small smile. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he said quickly, before turning to leave. 

Suddenly a small pink hand was holding his. “Please don’t go,” Persephone begged in a small voice. 

Her eyes were pleading and he needed no more convincing. Carefully he stepped around her and settled on the other side of her tiny body. He pulled her to him in a protective embrace and smiled as she relaxed.


	2. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persephone has a nightmare about what happened with Apollo that morning. 
> 
> CW/ TW: ABUSE. This is where it gets graphic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, proceed with caution. This one was hard to write, but this is the nightmare that lead me to the fanfic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

_Persephone hummed to the pop ballad she had blasting while she washed the dishes. Her hips swayed in time with the song as she scrubbed off the black char that coated the pan. It was her most recent attempt at making breakfast while enthralled in a good book. She still hadn’t learned how to keep an eye on the page and on her eggs before the fire alarm alerted her to the fact that her eggs were very well done._

_Suddenly the room was quiet. Persephone spun around, wet pan still in hand, to see why the music had stopped. All the breath left her lungs when she saw the purple finger pressing the power button on her stereo._

_“Hey Persie,” Apollo sneered._

_“What are you doing here?” Persehpone tried to keep the tremble out of her voice, but even if her voice hadn’t wavered, her hands definitely gave her away._

_“I came to talk. You haven’t responded to any of my texts and I still need to address those nasty things you said to me when I was nice enough to give you a ride home,” he said with a gold glint in his eye as he closed the distance between them._

_“Get away from me, we have nothing to talk about,” Persephone demanded, inching towards the hallway._

_“You see,” he continued, acid in his voice, “you’re a very ungrateful bitch. We had a wonderful night together and still I find you crawling all over that_ corpse_? Tsk-tsk, what am I supposed to do with such a slut?”_

_Persephone tried to run towards her bedroom, but he easily closed the remaining distance with a single stride, grabbing her arm and throwing her against the wall. His left hand remained tightly around her arm as he pressed his right forearm across her chest with his full body weight to keep her pinned._

_“Where the_ fuck _do you think you’re going?” Apollo spat._

_Persephone’s eyes turned red and wild red vines weaved through her hair. For a moment she smiled, almost sweetly, as she swung the pan that was still in her left hand. It collided with Apollo’s head making a sickening_ crack_! He tumbled backwards, momentarily dazed, giving Persephone enough time to sprint towards her bedroom. She had almost entirely shut the door when Apollo’s body collided with it. The door groaned and creaked under his weight, and she was using all of hers to try and close it._

_“Persie, baby, let me in,” Apollo hissed through gritted teeth. “Come on baby, my head really hurts and you need to make it up to me.”_

_Persephone was trying to think, she couldn’t keep it up for much longer. Even if she managed to close the door what was she going to do next? Suddenly a voice popped into her head, ‘But if you ever feel you’re in danger, I would help you... Well, it’s like how it says on my business card. Hit the ground twice to summon me.’_

_Just then Apollo put all his force into one final push. Persephone lost her balance and stumbled, falling backwards and hitting her head on the corner of her dresser. The world was spinning and her breath came in short gasps. She was barely aware of Apollo just inches from her face, yelling at her. Her fist made two weak strikes towards the ground, but her depth perception was still off and they did nothing to aid her or summon help. Apollo had stopped yelling and was watching her with a furious look in his eyes, knowing exactly what she was trying to do._

_In a moment of clarity he stood up, swaying a little and still hearing a faint ringing in his head from where Persephone had hit him. He knew today wasn’t the day to pick a fight with the King of the Underworld. No, for that he had to be ready. He turned to leave, but not before noticing the pink sewing machine sitting on her night stand. He grabbed it at the middle and flung it, aiming for the wall. He turned before it made contact._

“NO!” Persephone shrieked, sitting straight up in bed, covered in sweat. Her bright red eyes darted around nervously and her heart was racing with adrenaline.

“Persephone?” Hades jumped up next to her and reached out to touch her shoulder. 

Her eyes looked at Hades wide with terror, not recognizing the friendly face as she jumped backwards off the bed. Her legs were tangled in the sheets and she tripped, falling on her back. “Apollo, no! Please!” she screamed as Hades jumped up in a failed attempt to catch her. He stopped dead in his tracks, fists clenching and skin turning quickly to black. _That shitty little sun god did this to her? I’m going to fucking kill hi-_

Persephone’s violent sobbing brought him back to reality. He took a steadying breath, knowing that justice for her would have to wait because now, she needed him. 

“Kore?” Hades whispered softly as he got to his knees in front of her. She had backed herself into the wall and was crying into her hands. Slowly he inched closer, whispering her name, trying to coax her out of her panic. “Sweetness, please, look at me. You’re safe here, no one will hurt you.” 

He was just a few inches from her when she finally looked up at him. “Hades? I-I’m so s-sorry,” she stuttered between sobs. 

“Sweetness, no, you have nothing to apologize for. Come here.” Hades sat cross legged on the floor in front of her and opened his arms for her, this time allowing her to make the decision to touch him. 

Persephone crawled into his lap, her whole body shaking as she settled into his embrace. Hades whispered calming words into her ear as he ran his fingers through her hair. It had grown long since he had last cut it just a few hours ago, once again in a puddle around them.

“You’re okay,” he muttered one more time into her ear before pulling back just enough to place a kiss on her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kudos make my heart soar, thanks everyone! Any criticism is welcome!


	3. Crimson Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is slow moving, I got a bit stuck with this one and I don’t love it. 
> 
> Any criticism appreciated!

Hades had gone to work. It took a lot of convincing from the small pink goddess, but eventually he caved. He thought that maybe he should give her the space to process things on her own, even though he didn’t totally love the idea. However, there were rules:

“If you go to work I want you to really _go_ to work. I don’t want you to go to Zeus or tell anyone about Apollo. I _especially_ don’t want you to go looking for Apollo,” Persephone had said evenly, but the look in her eyes begged. “I’m not ready yet.” 

Hades huffed at the memory. It had been three days since he took her from her bedroom and the only thing he knew was what she screamed after her first nightmare. He wouldn’t press her, she could tell him in time or not at all. Truthfully he wanted to rip the throat out of that shitty little sun god no matter what Persephone had said. It had been the look on her face of pure terror when she had just woke up that told him everything he needed to pass judgement, but as long as he stayed in the Underworld and didn’t run in to Apollo, he might be able to keep himself in check. After all, she wasn’t ready yet. 

The cigar between his lips crackled as he inhaled and smoke circled his head. Hades stood in front the large windows in his office looking out to the city. He hadn’t been able to get any work done. All he could think about was how quiet the little goddess had been the past three days. She would sit next to him on the couch with a book, but never once did she turn the page. The flowers that sprouted in her hair were a dark, blood red. They wouldn’t last long, sometimes withering and dying with each struggled breath she took. 

Her smile hadn’t reached her eyes in three days. 

Apollo. He would burn for what he did. 

A knock came from his door. He jumped at the sudden noise. “Come in,” he called, not even bothering to turn from the window. 

“Your majesty?” inquired a small voice from the crack in the door. Slowly the blue nymph stepped in, only opening the door as much as she needed. “You haven’t answered your intercom.” 

Finally, Hades turned. His new PA was looking at the ground, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. Her pointed ears were pressed tightly against her hair like a scared puppy. She was tall and lanky with a head of tight curls that bounced when she moved. Since first meeting her a week ago they hadn’t spoke much, but she had never looked overly afraid of him until that moment. It was then Hades realized that his skin had become dark while he had been lost in his thoughts. 

He cleared his throat and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, “what is it?” 

“There is a god here to see you. They don’t have an appointment, but she said she wouldn’t leave until you talked to her.” 

“Who is it?”

“I-I didn’t ask,” his PA replied timidly.

“You do realize that it’s your job to ask?” Hades sighed and walked over to his desk, stamping out the cigar as he sat down. “Send her in.” 

Quickly his PA disappeared and in stepped Artemis, eyeing him cruelly. Hades had to admit, he was a little stunned. He tried not to let his surprise show on his face as he gestured for her to sit. 

Artemis crossed the room in confident steps, finally stopping to stand in front of his desk with her arms on her hips. 

“Where is she?” she demanded. 

“I don’t follow, Artemis. Where is who?” asked Hades. He thought back to Persephone’s rules, trying to keep his voice even. She hadn’t really covered this. 

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Persephone! I know you have her!” 

“Excuse me?”

“I haven’t seen her in three days! My house is an absolute mess and she’s gone!” Artemis shouted. 

Hades shrugged, trying his best to be nonchalant. “Did you call Eros? They’re friends, right?” 

“Do you think I’m stupid? Of course I did! He hasn’t seen her either!” Artemis paused, narrowing her eyes at the King. “She didn’t take anything, not even her phone. It almost looks like someone just took her.”

A fire burned in Hades’ chest. He clenched his fists, knowing full well of what she was accusing him of, but he wanted to hear it from her. “Just say what you’re trying to say Artemis, I don’t have time for this.”

“Where is she!? You and your brothers always take what you want and people have seen the way you look at her!”

“What people?” Hades growled. 

Artemis just huffed and rolled her eyes before taking a breath and closing her eyes. “Hades, what did you do to her?”

“Me!?” Hades stood up, slamming his fists on the desk. Artemis barely reacted to his sudden movement beyond opening her eyes to look at him. “Protector of young women,” he scoffed. “You need to talk to your brother before you accuse _me_ of hurting her.” 

His words hit Artemis and she staggered back a step, like she had just been slapped. “What about Apollo?”

Hades stiffened, knowing already that he said too much. He stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What about Apollo!?” She yelled, now slamming her own hands down on the desk. 

“I have nothing more to say Artemis. I think you should go.” 

Artemis turned to leave, a look on her face that resembled hated and betrayal, though Hades wasn’t sure if it was directed at him. She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. 

“Is she safe?” she asked quietly after a few long moments, still facing away from Hades. 

“Yes,” he uttered with a sigh. 

Artemis nodded before turning and walking back to Hades’ desk. She hesitated a moment before placing a phone with a cracked screen in front of him. 

“Tell her to call me,” she muttered before finally leaving. 

Hades fell back into his chair worried about what he said. Sighing again, he took the phone and tucked it safe inside his breast pocket before finally resigning to get some work done. 

•

Persephone floated with her arms outstretched, surrounded by dark crimson roses that sprouted from her hair and floated away. She was desperately trying to feel better, but it had been hours and this didn’t seem to be working. Absentmindedly she let vines grow from her fingers and the palm of her hand, letting them dance a little before they disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. 

Sadness filled every cell of her being, rotting her from the inside out. The bruises had begun to heal; the space where they lived on her skin still pulsed along with her heartbeat, a constant reminder of how she failed to defend herself. Again.

A sob raked its way through her body and escaped out trembling tips, but no tears came. She had cried so much in the last three days that there felt as if nothing was left inside her. Finally the living embodiment of spring had succumbed to the reputation of the underworld. 

Persephone was dead inside. 

The distant _click-clack_ of Hades’ dress shoes pulled her from her daydream, but she didn’t look up as he sat next to the pool. 

“Persephone?” he called out to her softly, a concerned look painted across his face. He continued to talk to her, but she didn’t hear him. 

It wasn’t until long arms wrapped around her that she finally looked up at him, his face moist with tears. He had stripped down to his boxers and waded out into the pool. 

“Why are you crying?” Persephone asked quietly. 

“Kore I...” His voice trailed off. What was he supposed to say? _You’re the light of my life and seeing you like this is making my heart bleed? I would skin myself alive if it meant hearing you laugh just once?_ Hades inhaled through his nose and released a shaking breath. “Kore, Sweetness, please let me help you. I don’t care what you need just please, please tell me. I don’t know what to do and I’m so worried. Please.” 

Persephone nuzzled up to his neck, placing a soft kiss to his collarbone. “I think I’m ready to talk,” she confessed, “but I would like to be dry first.”


	4. No Damsel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much as I’d love for Hades to kick Apollo’s ass... Persephone isn’t a damsel in distress. She just needs to heal.

They both sat on opposite sides of the couch. Persephone’s wet hair fell heavy on her shoulders and clung desperately to her cheeks. Hades had redressed into his suit, excluding the tie and leaving the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone. It was an unfortunate habit resulting from years of always being ready to go back to work when the loneliness became too much to bare. 

He listened silently as Persephone spoke carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Hades wished more than ever that this moment was a nightmare and he would wake up screaming in bed.

“Hades,” Persephone whispered, her voice strained, “please say something.” 

_Say something?_ He couldn’t, not with the information he just received. He just stared at her, unable to get his body to react. She told him everything from the first time she shook that _creature’s_ hand to the moment the bastard slammed the door behind himself. Her words hit Hades like a train, only made more painful by the fact that she was saying it through tears. Hatred coursed through his veins like poison, but still he couldn’t move. _Where was I this whole time? If I couldn’t protect her then what good am I?_

_At least I can get her justice._

All of the sudden it was like he had been electrocuted. He jolted up, his perfect indigo skin now reflecting the night sky and his hair moved around him as if it had a life of its own. A near white flame surrounded both of his clenched fists. The Kind of the Dead was out for blood. 

Persephone gasped as he disappeared right before her. He changed so instantly she didn’t have time to beg him to stay, to beg him not to overreact. The images of what he might do to Apollo if he found him flashed across her vision. She fell to her knees and hit her hands to the ground twice as hard as she could. 

“Hades!” she cried into the empty living room. “Hades, please!” She struck the ground again, her whole body trembling. 

“Kore!” he shouted as he rematerialized, towering above her. 

Persephone winced at the way he yelled her name, so full of anger. She had never heard him yell like that, no less at her. 

Hades saw her wince and sucked in a painful breath. _She was just completely honest and vulnerable with me and the first thing I do is yell at her? You foolish man._

“Hades,” she said firmly, her eyes boring into his, alive with a fire all their own, “I can fight my own battles.” 

“He hurt you! I can’t let him get away with it! Kore, I will kill him.” 

Persephone stood, bringing her face as close to his as she could, her hands balled into fists at her side. “No,” she argued. “You haven’t thought this through.” 

“Yes I have,” Hades growled. Even in his anger his gaze softened. Being mad at her felt wrong. 

“No, Hades, you haven’t. You’re the only one I’ve told and _I need you_. What do you think is going to happen afterwards? They _will punish you_.” 

Hades huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d rather be punished for eternity than leave that miserable piece of shit breathing.” 

“Well, _I’d rather_ you left that decision to me,” Persephone demanded, mimicking his posture. 

Silence filled the air. Both of their bodies felt the crushing weight of the tension as they glared at each other. Hades was the first to break, letting his arms fall limply at his sides. He couldn’t fight with her, not over this. “Kore,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. You’re right, you can fight your own battles.” He closed his eyes. “I j-just feel like I failed you because I couldn’t protect you. The least I can do is kill that fucker so he doesn’t hurt you again.” 

Persephone surprised him by wrapping her arms around his waist. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she professed softly. “You came for me when I called and you’ve been taking care of me ever since. You’ve done more for me than I would have hoped.” Hades hugged her back, holding back the tears that were burning his eyes. “There was no way you could have protected me because it’s not your job, I need to be able to protect myself. You didn’t fail me, Hades, you didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t let you kill him because I _can’t lose you_.” 

Hades sighed, pulling her closer. Part of him didn’t really care what she said, Apollo was dead anyways. “Can I at least talk to my brother? Or just tell Hera? I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 

“You _can_ do nothing because I’m asking you to. At least for now. I just need to think.” 

Hades stiffened and pulled back to look at her. “Fates, what do you need to think about?” His tone was harsher than he intended. “Persephone he r-raped you. He broke into your house a-and... I don’t get it.”

Persephone smiled, reaching up to put a soft hand on his face. “Don’t worry,” she chimed. “I know what I’m doing.” 

The words were caught in his throat. _Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing._ They had been the first words she had said to him the morning she woke up here, the words she said right before turning the fearsome gatekeeper of the underworld to mush in her delicate hands. While it wasn’t the same circumstance, he didn’t need any more convincing. Persephone wasn’t afraid to face an animal head on, she could handle herself. 

Once again Hades sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay,” he started, “but I have conditions.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him, quizzically. “Oh? And what might they be?” 

“Well, I won’t go looking for him, but if he comes into my realm or crosses my path, I will not hesitate to pluck his eyes out of his skull,” he continued, a wicked smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “And two: I won’t demand it of you, but I’d feel a lot better if you stayed in the Underworld for the time being. It can be with me or I can arrange something else if that makes you more comfortable, but at least this way I can breathe a little easier.” Feeling deflated Hades sat down on the couch as he waited for her answer. Without thinking he reached out and laced her fingers with his. 

Persephone smiled down at him, a little surprised by his willingness to touch her when he had previously been so diligent about keeping a distance. “Okay,” she agreed simply, sitting down next to him on the couch, not letting go of his hand. 

He reached out with his free hand and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, lingering for a second longer than necessary on her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Kore. Really, I am. For everything.” 

“I know, and I appreciate it.” 

“Oh, I forgot,” he muttered, releasing her hand to dig through his jacket pocket, hesitating for a moment upon realizing that he had to _let go of her hand to reach into his jacket_. “Artemis stopped by today and she gave me this.” He handed Persephone her phone.

“She _what?_” Persephone asked wide-eyed, gulping audibly. 

__

“Well, s-she came to ask i-if I k-kidnapped you,” he stammered, a boyish look on his face as he rubbed the back of his head. 

__

“And what did you tell her?” 

__

“I told her I didn’t know where you were.”

__

“What else?” Persephone asked carefully with a skeptical eyebrow raised. 

__

“Nothing! I just... said that she might want to askApollobeforesheaccusesmeofhurtingyou,” Hades blurted quickly.

__

Persephone glared at him. “Excuse me?” 

__

Hades cleared his throat, knowing full well that she heard him. “I uh, I said that she should ask her brother before she accuses me of hurting you,” he repeated, laughing a little in his own nervousness three seconds later. 

__

“Hades, I told you not to say anything,” Persephone groaned, rolling her eyes. 

__

“I tried not to! It slipped...” he muttered. 

__

“I suppose it could be worse,” she admitted, biting her lip. 

__

“She wants you to call her.” Hades spoke softly, inching closer to her so he could take her hand in his again, this time purposely. “I think you should. She’s worried.” 

__

“I don’t know what to say,” she pouted. 

__

“Just tell her that you’re safe. You’re an adult and you can choose not to go back if you want to. I just don’t want another unexpected visit,” Hades laughed nervously, again. 

__

Persephone sighed as she turned on her phone, knowing he was right. 

__

She cringed when messages from Apollo popped up. She pushed her phone into Hades’ hands, already starting to shake. “Help me,” she pleaded in a small voice, suddenly wishing she had never turned her phone on. 

__

Hades placed the phone away from her on the other side of the couch and gathered the small goddess into his arms. “Can I tell you a story?” Hades asked in an attempt to distract her. 

__

“Please,” she breathed in response. 

__

“Let me tell you about the time I adopted Cordon Bleu...”

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was short! Felt like it needed to happen for the story to continue. Seriously, any constructive criticism welcome. 
> 
> Might regret posting this, finished it after a couple glasses of wine ;) 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos! :)


	5. Normalcy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some fluff before we get back to the real stuff :)

Persephone had resigned herself to go back to school. She had already missed a day and she refused to miss any more. Furthermore, she refused to let Apollo take anymore of her than he already had. Hades hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, as he never seems to be, especially since she insisted on going by herself. However, after he’d shown her how to block Apollo’s number and she promised to call if she felt even the slightest bit anxious, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief as he watched her small pink form fly off. 

It helped, actually, being back in school. Nothing much had changed and, thankfully, no one asked her any hard questions. Why would they? If her professors had asked she would have just told them she had a stomach bug, but she was eager to catch up on homework. She had been a great student so far, so none of them pressed further or seemed to show any signs of disbelief. With a slight bit of makeup and some careful placement of her hair, even the bruises couldn’t give her away. Everything was normal, and that was exactly what she needed. 

Hades had checked in with her all day, which was sweet. Simple texts, just asking how her classes were and an adorable picture of Cerberus neglecting his duties for some pets and a treat. They made her feel warm, not suffocated, which she appreciated immensely. 

It was early by the time she got back to the Underworld. Somehow she managed to beat Hades home, who had promised to not stay late even when she insisted that she didn’t mind. 

She had taken her time getting there, stopping to do her homework in the soft grass under a tree in the courtyard outside school while she waited for Eros to drop off a bag of her clothes, textbooks, and some other _things_ he had deemed necessary with a cheeky wink. He had handed her the pink duffle bag with a warm smile and a quizzical brow, but the way she had said, “_please_ don’t ask, I’m not ready to talk about it,” had stopped him from questioning her further. Persephone was thankful for that, thankful for him, and thankful for the soft kiss he placed on her forehead before leaving. The small gesture spoke volumes. 

Persephone took out her phone, sending Hades a quick text just so he knew she was safe and would maybe rethink rushing home in the event something came up. 

_Persephone: I’m home!_

Unceremoniously, she threw her phone on the couch before walking towards the kitchen. Hopefully he wouldn’t be home for at least another hour which would give her time to make dinner for the both of them. 

Hades’ cabinets were incredibly organized. Inside the door were labels, neatly describing exactly the things that lined the shelves: chicken stock, vegetable stock, canned soup, pasta, rice, oil, sauce, _salt_, of all things, and so on. The _full cabinet_ with a single label reading ‘snacks for good puppies’ made her laugh so hard her face turned the deepest shade of magenta. Persephone only found it in her to stop giggling when her eyes landed on _canned vegetables_. Her face contorted in disgust at what her and her mother had always said as a joke. She had no idea something so vile could be real. _Why in the cosmos would anyone do that?_ The fridge was much of the same in the way it was neatly organized but, thankfully, minus the labels. For a man who loved to cook he didn’t seem to have anything actually _edible_.

After going through everything, she decided on not using what he had and instead testing her powers by growing a few things in the corner of the backyard. She settled into the sand on her knees and concentrated. Momentarily her eyes glowed white, burning with the power radiating from her. Her fingers combed against the dark floor of the Underworld, leaving small green buds of vegetation in their wake. Slowly they grew, emitting a soft green hue as Persephone used her own energy to replace what the sun would have given them. Spaghetti squash, mushrooms, tomatoes, and basil spouted, growing to their full size in minutes. 

Satisfied, Persephone collected all that she could in her arms and headed back into the kitchen. The four dogs Hades had trusted to leave behind followed her curiously, their nails clicking in a chorus against the hardwood floor as they matched each of her steps around the kitchen. She _may have_ returned to the cabinet lined with treats more than once, but Persephone was sure that her secret was safe. 

Once the squash was in the oven she began cutting the mushrooms and working on the tomato sauce. Persephone hummed an upbeat tune to herself, quietly proud that her powers had been strong enough to grow the things she needed to make Hades a nice dinner instead of having to go to the store. For the first time in a while she felt confident.

Her thoughts were interrupted by three more sets of paws running to join the others. 

“Oh! There are my good dogs!” she squealed, kneeling down to welcome them all home with scratches. Eagerly they all met her pets with excited yips and wagging tails. It was a few moments before Persephone noticed the tall figure standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Hi!” she beamed.

“Persephone?” Hades spoke so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. His jaw had dropped a little in surprise and his eyes seemed concerned, though Persephone couldn’t imagine why. As her eyes traveled over his messy, silver hair her face fell, immediately imagining the worst. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, slowly rising to her feet. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he confessed, his eyes grazing over her as if she were a mirage. 

“What do you mean?” She was confused, if not slightly mortified. Had she overstayed her welcome? Had they made other arrangements for her and she forgot? Of course he didn’t want her here anymore. _Stupid village girl_. 

“You said you were home. I tried calling and you didn’t answer. I–I just assumed you went back to Artemis or back to the mortal realm. I didn’t— I thought you wouldn’t be here.” Hades spoke barely above a whisper. The expression on his face matched the pained tone of his voice. 

“_Oh_,” she breathed, a wave of guilt washing over her. Persephone spun around and started looking for her phone. “I’m sorry, I don’t know where I put it.” She opened a drawer and rummaged through the utensils. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall. “I got distracted.” She lifted a pot to check underneath. Quickly she wiped at the tear that got away, hoping he didn’t see. “I’m not very good with my phone.” She shook out the oven mitt, letting it fall to the ground as she huffed, finally turning to face Hades, defeated, although she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be in the way. I know you’re busy.” 

He shook his head, willing the panicked fog to lift. In one swift motion he closed the gap between them and pulled her into his arms. “I think we misunderstand each other, Sweetness. When you said that you were _home_, I didn’t think that meant you were _here_.” Without thinking he kissed the top of her head, burying his nose in the scent of flowers that wrapped him like a warm blanket. His eyes fluttered shut and he was rendered motionless, letting silence fall over both of them for a few moments. “I thought you left, I thought I did something wrong,” he muttered against her hair finally.

Persephone blushed furiously, her mouth trembled soundlessly as she tried to find the words that would soothe the ache and confusion that festered in both their minds. Hades matched her blush, unable to move or will his body to breathe as he realized what he had just done.

It was a few moments before Persephone cleared her throat, opting to change the subject. Reluctantly she pulled away just enough to look at him with a sweet smile. 

“I, uh, I’m making dinner, if you’re interested. It’s almost done,” she said, watching the lines of tension ease from his face. 

“I’ll go, um, I’ll go get changed then,” he responded awkwardly. They both stared at each other, unmoving, until the oven alarm made them both jump. 

“Oh!” squeaked Persephone, immediately moving to attend to the squash. 

Hades watched her for a moment while absentmindedly brushing the wrinkles from his suit. Without another word he disappeared silently down the hall towards his bedroom. 

_What did you just do?_ Hades scolded himself once he had made it, closing the door quickly behind him. He leaned against the door and roughly ran his hands down his face. _You’re her boss, you can’t just go kissing the head of your employee._ He sighed and undressed, throwing his clothes haphazardly in the direction of his hamper as he walked towards the bathroom. Just as he was stepping into the shower, warm water cascading down his chest, he froze having remembered what had started all the confusion in the first place. 

_Persephone was home._

•

Hades walked back into the kitchen and the most wondrous smells lingered. He imagined this is what the first licks of fall smelled like in the mortal realm, warm and spicy with just a touch of chill. However, there was hardly any evidence that dinner had been cooked except the dishes stacked neatly in the sink. A few steps farther and the warm glow of the dining room caught his eye; a room that hadn’t been touched in what was probably years. 

Candles were everywhere: the table, the windowsill, on top of the china cabinet and wet bar, and just about every flat surface that wasn’t covered in more _flowers_. All the vases he had been gifted but never used finally served a purpose. Of course he should have expected it from the Goddess of Spring, but never in his wildest dreams would he have believed that she did this for _him_. 

Steam rose from the sauce pot in the center of the table, the squash carefully covered in a glass baking pan, and the _mushrooms_. The smell of it all, mingling in the air with the scent of flowers made his mouth water. She had set the table already, with such care that she couldn’t expect her only company to be him, the God of the Dead, and she must be waiting for someone else. And yet, there were only two plates. 

The excitement in his chest bubbled to the surface as a wistful laugh. 

“Persephone?” he called out to the empty room, a smile pulling his dimples to the surface of his cheeks.

After a few seconds he heard shuffling behind him coming from the kitchen. Quietly he peered back inside at the small goddess. Hades’ face ran warm at the sight of her in her loose white tank top, heavy pale blue cardigan, and the short, white skirt that hugged her legs. Her _legs_. And, _oh gods_, she was wearing these fuzzy blue socks that bunched up around her ankles. His heart slammed in his chest and Hades hoped it wasn’t audible. 

Persephone was stacking the dog bowls in the sink. _Had she fed them?_

Hades stood there frozen, lost in the way she moved so confidently in his kitchen, almost as if she had been there all her life. Her quiet muttering pulled him back to reality as he stifled a laugh. 

“_Seven_ dogs and not one of them knows how to _sit_. _Spoiled_ little things,” she complained under her breath. “So _rude_.”

He couldn’t help it, a giggle escaped from his lips and he did his best to mask it with a cough as she spun around on her heels to face him, a blush brimming her cheeks. 

“Hi!” she grinned, clearly pretending she hadn’t heard him.

“Did you feed the dogs?” asked Hades, an amused grin painted across his face.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that hard!” she lied, casually blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. 

“Oh, I’m sure they were _perfectly_ patient for you,” he mused, biting his lip in an attempt to hold back the laughter.

Persephone glared at him and made a face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You heard me talking to myself, didn’t you?” she accused in a low voice. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Sweetness.” 

The way she moved into an irritated stance, hands on her hips, and trying to look as intimidating as possible shattered any composure he had left in his body. A loud laugh ricocheted through his body, bouncing off of every surface around him.

“It’s not funny,” she frowned. 

Only a moment passed before his contagious belly laugh finally got her, too. Together they erupted into a fit of laughter, mutually gasping for air.

When it finally subsided Hades looked at Persephone, eyes filled with adoration. “Kore,” he nearly whispered, breathlessly, “this is really wonderful.” 

“Thank you,” she beamed. 

Her face and chest were flushed a deep rose from laughing, and Hades tried not to think of all the other ways he could get her skin to do that. He was too busy musing over the fantasies swirling in his mind to realize she had been looking at him, waiting for him to say something. 

Persephone cleared her throat and Hades’ eyes snapped up to her. “The dogs are outside,” she offered. “I thought it would be best if they weren’t whining and begging for food, even though they _just ate_.”

“Ever the bottomless pits,” he agreed, coyly. 

“I made squash,” she smiled. 

“It smells _delicious_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Samantha for the beta read, your patience with me is astounding and I am forever grateful.


	6. The Fight in Her

Persephone chewed thoughtfully, considering the question. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she replied honestly, pushing a mushroom around her plate.

“He hasn’t gone to Zeus, yet. If he had I’m sure I would have heard something,” Hades offered, though he wasn’t entirely sure it was the truth. 

“Maybe I hit him hard enough that he forgot the whole thing,” she muttered, hopefully. The sound of the frying pan hitting the side of Apollo’s head replayed in her mind. _Crack!_ It should have made her sick, but a strange and new sense of confidence lingered in place.

“Wishful thinking, Sweetness.”

“I know,” groaned Persephone, leaning back in her chair with a huff. She picked up her napkin and rolled it anxiously between her fingers.

“Have you talked to Artemis yet?” Hades asked, softly. He had tried to keep the conversation light, but truthfully he was worried about the next steps. He didn’t want to ruin the absolute _bliss_ they had been drifting in just moments before, teasing and laughing with each other. He could have lived like that forever, just eating dinner and admiring the way the candlelight danced across the freckles on her nose, but sooner or later they would have to face it. 

“No,” she sighed. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Hades wrapped some of the spaghetti squash around his fork, keeping his eyes on his plate, twirling it longer than was really necessary. “Maybe that you’re staying in the Underworld _willingly_,” he joked awkwardly, forcing a laugh. 

“Or maybe I tell her that I was abducted by a scoundrel,” she countered, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed more easily this time, throwing her a smug wink. 

A comfortable silence fell over them while they both ate. So many questions hung in the air, but the answers felt far away. Persephone breathed an exasperated sigh, and Hades looked up to meet her gaze, a small furrow creeping into the space between his brows. “You’re right, though,” she conceded, “I need to get ahead of this. I feel like if I wait much longer the fallout might be worse.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Persephone.” Hades reached across the table and placed his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Don’t feel like you have to,” she frowned, her voice sounding small. 

“I want to,” he insisted.

She turned her hand and laced her fingers with his. Even though his hand was so much bigger than hers, the way they fit together felt so right. Hades smiled, and Persephone went bashful under his gaze. Something about the way he looked at her made her stomach flip. 

“So,” she began, “we need to have some sort of plan.”

“If we go to Zeus there will be a trial.” The idea of Persephone having to tell everyone what she told him made Hades inwardly wince, and he wondered who else would stand beside her. Zeus was family, but it still seemed like a long shot. Especially considering that the smug piece of shit who hurt Persephone was almost a carbon copy of his little brother, and Zeus really just _ate it up_.

“Yeah, but, I think I’ll lose,” she admitted, almost like she had read his mind. Her tone was calm, and almost seemed unbothered, but a sad look lingered in her eyes. Hades knew she was putting up a front, probably wishing, just like he was, for an easy and painless way out of this. 

“But you have _me_, and I’m sure Hecate will serve as your legal counsel, and then there’s Hera—”

“Hades, I’m just some new goddess from the mortal realm. I don’t have any pull and you know that.” The sadness spilled from her eyes and pulled her mouth into a deep frown. Almost as if she suddenly realized that her mask had fallen, she looked down at her plate and took a big mouthful. “Besides,” she continued, waving her fork around, “he’s Zeus’ favorite, and even _you_ know that he’ll use your dislike of him to discredit you. He’ll say it was consensual, call me a liar, and everyone will believe him.”

“You should talk to Hestia. I’m sure that there is some sort of rule that guarantees punishment to someone that forcibly takes the virginity of—_rapes_—an eternal maiden.” His skin crawled at the word as the reality of what happened to her hit him again. He shook his head, pushing the images from his mind before the anger could creep outward. 

Persephone choked on the water she was sipping. Guilt drained the color from her face and she met Hades’ gaze with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, with a sudden look of worry painted over every corner of his face. 

“Well, there’s something—” she hesitated, taking a moment to consider her words. Persephone took a deep breath and continued, “there’s something I haven’t told you. I haven’t told _anyone_ actually.”

Hades hummed, urging her to continue with another gentle squeeze to her hand. 

“I’ve been looking for a way out of being a Goddess of Eternal Maidenhood. I’ve been saving up money to pay back the scholarship,” she admitted slowly, averting her gaze once more.

A warm bubble of something—excitement, _hope_ maybe—_something_ reckless, bubbled up in Hades’ chest, and he tried with every ounce of decency left in his body to keep his tone even, even though the smile in his eyes was wide. “This isn’t because of what he did, is it?”

Persephone shook her head. “No. When he came into my room and did _that_, part of me felt like it was the only way out. I didn’t want it, but everyone in my life has made decisions for me without thinking about me. It just felt like another one of those—” she cringed, untangling her fingers from Hades and pulling her hand back into her lap, sighing, “things.”

Hades frowned at her. His hand was cold from the loss of her touch and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her until everything was right in her world, but he understood. When he was her age his life had also been decided for him without anyone asking what he really wanted. While it wasn’t the same he _understood_. Everything she had admitted to nearly ripped him in half because he remembered what it had felt like. He just wanted to make everything _better_, even though he didn’t know where to begin. “So, what do _you_ want to do? What other choice is there?”

Persephone groaned and hit her forehead against the table, fork still in hand. “I don’t know,” she confessed, exasperated, her voice muffled by her angle. 

“Trial by combat?” he quipped, wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“That’s an idea!” she chimed, Sitting upright quickly with the fork flying from her hand and clattering to the floor. Whether it was her sudden movement or her overly ecstatic answer, Hades jumped in shock. 

He gaped at her. “What?”

“Trial by combat!” she clarified, a large smile spreading across her face. “That’s such a good idea!” 

It _wasn’t_ a good idea, and Hades couldn’t believe that it had even come out of his mouth. In reality he had meant it as a joke, but clearly he needed to stop underestimating the small, pink goddess. “But if he wins, you’ll be guilty,” he added, solemnly.

“Then I’ll win.” 

The food in his stomach churned, and suddenly he felt sick. _This is not good._

.

Persephone sat on the couch fiddling with her phone. The lavender tea she had made herself sat on the coffee table, going cold. Her anxiety had peaked in an almost crippling way, causing her hair to have grown down to the middle of her back since dinner. She knew she had to call her roommate and tell her _at least_ that she wasn’t dead—or abducted. It would be in her best interest to talk Artemis down from whatever cliff she may be on, since the alternative was probably getting Demeter involved, and Persephone _did not_ want that.

Hades had retired to his office, opting to give her space, but all she wanted was for him to wrap his long, strong arms around her. With him she felt safe, confident even, but now that she was alone with her thoughts everything seemed more daunting. 

Cerberus eyed her curiously from the cushion next to her on the couch, clearly sensing her inner turmoil. He whined, pulling her focus from her thoughts to his wide eyes. She reached over and scratched him on his back, giving him a grateful smile. Seemingly satisfied he put his head down and closed his eyes.

With one final, heavy sigh she pulled up Artemis’ contact and pressed ‘call’, hesitating a moment before putting the phone to her ear. It barely rang twice before she answered.

“Are you okay!?” Artemis near shouted, making Persephone jump.

“Hey, Artemis,” she croaked, her voice shaking.

“Persephone? What happened?” Artemis asked, her voice still an octave or two below yelling.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, not yet. I just called to tell you that I’m okay.” Persephone closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but she had hoped that Artemis wouldn’t sound so _angry_. She couldn’t tell her what happened, not when she sounded like she might jump through the phone at her. 

“Eros came by to get some of your stuff. Are you moving out? Why aren’t you coming home?” Artemis was unrelenting; near shouting again. 

Goosebumps rose on Persephone’s skin and she shivered. She stammered, “Artemis, I really don’t—”

“And Hades! Ever the cryptic one isn’t he? I talked to him and _he_ knows where you are but you can’t tell _me_?”

“I really don’t want to do this over the ph—”

“Then he mentioned Apollo! Did he do something?”

“Artemis!” shouted Persephone. Something cracked inside of her at the sound of his name. “Stop!” Over and over she heard the sound of the pan hitting the side of his head. _Crack!_ Her eye throbbed under all the makeup used to cover the bruise. Red vines began weaving their way through her hair, which was quickly growing and piling onto the couch. 

Cerberus jumped up into a defensive stance from where he had dozed off and gave an alarmed bark at whatever had just made her yell. Quickly she pet him between his large ears, cooing at him softly to coax him, and herself, back from their alarmed states. “Artemis,” she said again, calmer this time, but a bitterness still coating her tone. “I just called to say that I’m okay. Otherwise I’m not ready to talk about it. I am safe and that’s all you need to know.”

“But Perse—”

“No. Not now. I’ll talk to you later.” Persephone smashed the ‘end call’ button with her thumb before throwing her phone to the side, praying to every god she could think of that some sort of void would appear and swallow the thing whole. 

She put her face in her hands and counted to ten with every breath she took. Even though she felt like she had no tears left to cry a few escaped from her red eyes, still burning with anger. 

The couch dipped next to her and the unexpected change tipped her sideways and she fell right into Hades’ arms and broad chest. Persephone gasped before turning to bury her face in his shirt. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes. The parts of Persephone that had cracked started to mend once more in the safety of his embrace and her breathing returned to normal. She wrapped her arms around his waist finally, giving him a light squeeze. He returned the gesture with a soft, _purposeful_ kiss on the top of her head. 

“I hate this,” she groaned, her voice muffled against his chest.

“I know, Sweetness.” Hades pulled her closer and ran his fingers through her hair. 

“I want to tell her but I _can’t_. Part of me thinks she’ll be on my side, but I also know that’s a lot to hope for. I mean, it’s her _brother_.”

Persephone twisted a little in his arms, moving herself to a more comfortable position. Hades stopped breathing when she repositioned herself into his lap with her head resting just under his chin. It was exhilarating, the feeling of her small body pressed against him. This was the first time he was holding her where she wasn’t crying. _How did we get here?_ he wondered to himself. 

“Are you serious about this?” Hades asked quietly. 

Persephone hummed quizzically, closing her eyes and nuzzling into his neck. 

Hades breath hitched, which he covered by clearing his throat. “You know, about the trial by combat?” he clarified. 

She looked up at then, her big doe eyes gleaming with determination. “I am. I don’t see many other options.”

Hades put a hand on the side of her face, running his thumb across her cheekbone. He hoped that the look he was giving her was reassuring, but he knew that the concern was there. “Whatever you choose, I’ll be by your side. I don’t care how hard it is or how long it takes. We’ll get justice for you, your way.” 

“Thank you,” she breathed, closing her eyes once more and leaning into his hand. 

Slowly their faces drifted towards each other, the movement slow and heavy as if they were magnets. Hades shivered as the warmth of her breath tickled his skin. With half-lidded eyes he worked quickly to memorize the lines of her face, the plumpness of her lips, the _smell_ of lavender. He needed to do whatever he could to sear this image forever into the black behind his eyelids, so this would be all he saw when he closed his eyes for the rest of his life. 

Then, her phone chimed.

With equal determination they both ignored it, a mere few beats from experiencing what had only before been a _really_ good dream. Both of their eyes drifted closed and— 

It chimed again. Then three more times in rapid succession. 

Persephone groaned, and before Hades could pull her in the _last few centimeters_, she had moved away, the air cold and his hand _freezing_ where she had just been. Hades sighed, mentally preparing a space in Tartarus for whoever was on the other side of that text message.

When Hades had finally found it in himself to open his eyes, Persephone was only an arm’s-length from him, but the look on her face was far away, her eyes wide in horror.

“Persephone, what’s wrong?”

“It just got worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super proud of this chapter and I hope you all liked it! Swoonie, thank you for always being so supportive, and thank you to everyone on discord who has jumped in to help me with the next stages of this. You're all so, so wonderful. 
> 
> I'm positively BUZZING with excitement.


	7. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: heavy conversation dealing with rape/ violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this at the Hobo Johnson show because I just couldn’t wait...

_Unknown: If you’re not home by dawn then these go to Demeter._

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Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea, but it was the only one she had. She called him. By nothing short of a miracle he had decided to come, even though she hadn’t given him much of an explanation.

Little did she know that didn’t need one. For her, he would always come when she called.

There was a small park not far from Hades’ home, about a mile down the hill if you were going towards downtown. Though, you can't really call it a _park_. It was a small patch of sand sitting awkwardly between some new housing developments. The only thing that marked it as such was a sign and a fountain surrounded by a couple of wooden benches. The sound of the water flowing was serene and Persephone took a deep breath. She counted to ten before exhaling.

It wasn’t long before the loud engine of a motorcycle cut through the quiet, early morning air of the Underworld. As the sound drew closer Persephone stood, her fingers drumming anxiously on the side of her leg. 

When he pulled up he wasn’t wearing a helmet and she could see the confusion on his face, even given the low lighting that the lamps posted on all four corners of the sad patch of land gave off. He hesitated briefly before stepping off his bike and walking towards her. The soft yellow curls piled on his head sat limply, and bounced with every heavy step he took. Something about him seemed older, like maybe in the calluses on his hands you could tell he had seen some things, but the same familiar boyish features painted his face. The red around his eyes was broken up by a white bandage across the bridge of his nose and there were bruises above both of his cheek bones, though they seemed to be healing. 

_Some things never change_, she thought. 

Persephone cupped both hands around her mouth and blew into them, rubbing them together to thaw the numbness in her fingers. She gave him a weak smile. 

“Your nose is broken again,” she remarked.

“Kore, why am I here?” asked Ares impatiently, though a genuine tinge of worry existed on the outskirts of his tone. 

“I need your help,” she replied. 

“Yeah, but _why_?” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down his nose at her. “You’re not declaring war because someone shit in your flower patch, right? Because that would be boring, and not to mention blatantly disrespecting my powers as, you know, _the God of War._” 

In one heavy, dramatic motion Persephone put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “No. Now stop being an asshole.”

Ares gasped, feigning offence before rolling his eyes dramatically. “You came to _me_, sugarplum, now spill.”

Persephone didn’t move. A wave of regret passed over her. For a moment she considered walking away, leaving him staring open mouthed after her, but against her better judgement she stayed put. He always played these games with her, and she always let him for some reason.

“Hm,” he started, scratching his chin. “Is it about a boy?”

The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention for the God of War. He had her and they both knew it. 

“So, someone broke the little flower goddess’ heart, huh? But _who_?” Ares started circling her; stalking her like she was some sort of wounded animal. He licked his lips, a sneer pulling at his mouth. “What was the name of the little messenger boy who always came around? _Hermes_? Nah, it couldn’t be him. He’s too soft and undeserving of this—,” he gestured to her, giving her a smug wink, “_hatred._”

Persephone shivered, but said nothing.

“The God of Love, perhaps? He seems to be up your alley. You know, _pink_ and everything.”

Her head doesn’t move with him as he circles her, she only followed him with her eyes, letting them rest on the fountain as she waited for him to reappear from behind her. Persephone crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look as indifferent to his attack as possible.

“No? Well I guess he’s a little soft, too. Not to mention a little too horny and—” he sucked in a sharp breath, making a show of slowing his pace and leaning back to look at her butt before looking into her eyes, pointedly, “—_experienced_ for you.” Ares chuckled, low and deep and clearly pleased with himself as he continued to stalk around her. 

She huffed, rolling her eyes. 

“Well, then, I guess it must be,” he paused, taking his time to stop in front of her and plant his feet firmly on the ground, “Apollo.” 

Her composure faltered a little in the form of a surprised squeak, but otherwise she’s unmoving, albeit nervous for what’s coming next. 

“What did he do, Kitten?” He tilted his head at her, a priggish grin on his face as his eyes traveled from her toes to the tips of her long eyelashes. When he once again met her gaze he continued, “Did he sleep with you and leave before you woke up?”

“Fuck you,” she spat, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She let her shoulders slump, inwardly cursing herself for—what? For calling him in the first place? Or for letting him play the game he always played with her when she knew it always ended up hurting? _Stupid village girl._ “I wish you wouldn’t,” she whispered, her voice sounding small.

For a moment he stood there smuggly, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in his victory. It was when Persephone sniffed, using the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her eyes that he realized he went too far.

Ares bent down so he could be at her eye level and put a soft hand under her chin, lifting her face to realign their gaze. “Kore—” he started to say, but the words caught in his throat. Something about the look on her face—about the look _of_ her face hit him with a _thwump_. His eyes traveled over her features, finally seeing _why_ she called him for the first time. She had wiped away her tears and with it the makeup that covered the bruise. A shadow seemed to pass over his face, leaving his eyes glowing against the darkness. “Did—did he hit you?” The question lingered in the air, cold and icy. _But that’s not the whole story._ “Kore, did he rape you?”

Persephone broke under his gaze, her knees no longer having the strength to hold her up. She started to fall, sobs vibrating violently through her body for the first time in days, but he was there to catch her in his strong arms. Ares pulled her in tight, whispering choked apologies against her hair. 

When she had finally caught her breath and the tears had stopped coming, Ares pulled back to look at her, holding her firmly by the shoulders.

“Why didn’t you come to me earlier?” he asked.

“I didn’t know I could,” she replied with a sniffle. She didn’t look at him and instead followed the lines of mud on his combat boots with her eyes.

“Bullshit.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his, a little shocked that he was able to call her bluff so quickly. The look on his face was uncharacteristically soft and _so_ serious all at the same time. All remnants of the joke had vacated from the lines around his eyes and Persephone conceded, “Okay, you’re right. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t defend myself.”

“What—why?” Ares asked, befuddled, but shook his head, it suddenly dawning on him where she was coming from. He had always been hard on her, always tried to push her as far as possible; he needed to work on that. She needed to know how strong he thought she was. “What exactly happened?”

Persephone thought for a few long moments. She had already told Hades and that was hard enough, and Ares was just so bullheaded that it was not out of the realm of possibility that he would overreact, but why had she called him if she wasn’t going to tell him? He was familiar, and at times a really good friend, but why of all people was she going to tell _him_? She took another deep breath and counted to ten before exhaling. _He needs to know so he can help me._ “Well, one night Artemis had him and Hermes over for movie night and he snuck into my room and—” she sniffled, tears brimming her eyes and she averted her gaze once more, “—Ares, it really hurt.”

Ares let her go and turned from her, his hands balled so tightly into fists that his nails broke the skin, leaving half-moon cuts in his palms. He was pacing, looking for something, _anything_, to hit before the anger got to be too much. His eyes fell on the fountain. He drove the point of his steel-toed boot right into the delicate filagree _hard_, so hard that the stone cracked a little. He flopped himself down into a nearby bench, his head in his hands. 

Persephone stood there, watching the water tickle from the crack. All of it replayed in her mind. 

_Don’t act like you don’t want this._

_Snap._

_Come on, Persie. I thought you were more mature than this._

_I don’t want to do this anymore._

_Snap._

_I want to stop. I want to st—_

“Hey,” Ares called out, sensing her distress and snapping her out of her thoughts. He extended an arm out to her, beckoning her over. She nodded and walked over to him, curling into his side. Ares pulled her to him protectively, letting her head rest on his chest. He kissed her hair softly and muttered against her hair, “What happened next?”

“He left,” she continued quietly. “I was so upset that he didn’t stay because I was so confused and everything hurt so much.” 

Ares winced, inwardly scolding himself for saything those things to her. “When did he hit you?” he asked grimly.

“He came back the other day while Artemis was gone. He tried to do it again and I managed to hit him with a frying pan.” A little proud smile washed over his face for a second, but is gone as quickly as it came. “I tried to run away but he pushed his way into my room. I hit my head on the dresser and tried to summon Hades, but the ground was further away than I thought it was. I couldn’t see straight.”

“Hades?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “we’re friends.”

Ares hummed, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Her head was still resting against his chest and she completely missed the amused look. _Underworld—now that makes sense. And doesn’t he_ live _somewhere around here?_ he thought, taking in the surroundings. He mentally filed that information away for later, deciding that now was not the time to press her about her relationship with the God of the Dead.

“So, anyways,” she went on, “he was yelling at me. He was so close to my face I could smell the mouthwash on his breath.” She shook her head, willing herself not to gag. “I tried striking the ground to summon Hades and he must have figured out what I was trying to do because he started to leave. Before he left though, he threw the sewing machine that was sitting on my nightstand and—well.” She slumped against him, shivering as the cold seeped in through the fabric of her sweater. 

He took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders before pulling her closer. He didn’t need it. The anger in his veins was keeping him warm enough. 

“I hadn’t decided what I wanted to do until earlier today, and then—”

“‘And then,’ what?”

Persephone hesitated before pulling out her phone and pulling up the text thread from the unknown number. Slowly she handed it over to Ares. 

“That little fucking—” Ares cleared his throat, trying to calm himself before he crushed her phone. “He’s dead.”

“No,” she said firmly.

“_No_? Kore—”

“I need to fight my own battles.”

“Listen to me.” He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Sometimes strength is just knowing when you need to sit it out and let someone else deal with it. You don’t need this to heal.” 

“But—I _do_.”

“Why?”

She thought for a moment before shrugging, unable to find the words. “I’m going to have to deal with this. I’m accusing him and challenging him to a trail by combat.”

He gaped at her, shocked that she had come up with something so _brutal_. He would never tell her, but he was a little proud. “What? Why can’t you just go to trial like a normal person? That’s an _ancient_ practice.”

“It’s still valid.”

“Yeah but it’s—it’s—that is _such_ a bad idea. You have _evidence_,” he argued, pulling up one of the images on her phone and holding it a few inches from her face.

Persephone cringed looking at her own crying face and half naked body. As the red thorns started to thread through her hair she moved back on the bench to look at him as she pushed his hand away. “No one needs to see that.”

“_A lot_ of people do! What he did to you is wrong! It’s—”

“No!” she exclaimed, the whites of her eyes overtaken by a fiery red. “I don’t need anyone else seeing me like _that_! Not my mother, not Artemis, and not Hades. I can’t—I _won’t_.” 

“You can’t fight him, Kore.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You think I’m weak.”

He put his hands on both sides of her face. “Darling, no.” Persephone’s gaze softened at his tone. It was strange coming from _him_. “That’s a _huge_ risk to take. Trial by combat was developed by mortals based on the idea that the gods will decide who the innocent one is. We _are_ gods. And Zeus’ punishments are notoriously harsh for the person who loses; you’ll _wish_ you could die. I can’t let you take that risk, Kore.” 

“I don’t know what else to do Ares.” She placed her hands over his and gently took his large hands from her face. “This is the only choice I have where I have a chance. I called you because I want you to train me. _Teach me_ to fight.”

He took a moment to study her face, thinking back to every trial he’d ever witnessed. She was right, even if enough people believed her the trail would be long and traumatizing. Zeus was not shy at keeping favorites, it didn’t matter how many people she had on her side. Maybe this was the best way for her to start over. Everything could be over with in a day, no matter what the outcome would be. 

But, _maybe_, he could even the odds for her.

“Let me be your champion,” he proposed, choosing to ignore her request. 

Her eyes grew wide. “What?” 

“Let me be your champion,” he repeated, a complacent smile growing across his face. “You’re entitled to choose a champion to fight on your behalf.”

“But—”

“No, shut up, listen,” he interrupted, clasping over her mouth. She narrowed her eyes at him as he continued, “You don’t need his ichor on your hands and I have so much on mine that it wouldn’t matter. You don’t need to stoop to his level to heal. And, I’ll win since, y’know, I’m the God of War.”

She shook her head, freeing her face of his large hand with an exaggerated grimace. “You really like laying that on thick, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “It’s probably the best chance we have.”

Persephone considered the idea for a moment. “What if you lose?”

“I won’t,” he boasted, puffing his chest out a little as if by habit. 

“What if you get hurt?” she questioned, eyeing him skeptically.

“I won’t,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Let me do this for you?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, taking his hands in hers. 

Ares instead grabbed her face again, this time with more urgency. “Please, Kore. Let me stand as your champion.”

Persephone sighed, slowly nodding in agreement. 

He smiled wide and pulled her into a tight embrace, reveling in the quiet giggle that escaped her lips.

“I promise I’ll win this for you,” he whispered in her ear. 

“Also promise that if you change your mind you’ll tell me?” she begged.

“I won’t,” he insisted.

“Ares, please,” she breathed.

“I promise.”

As they stood, preparing to leave, Persephone’s phone vibrated from where she had tucked it in her pocket. Her eyes grew wide and her heart sputtered still as the familiar number popped up on her screen. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Ares, peering over her shoulder to get a better look.

“Ares, what time is it?” she asked, her eyes never moving from her phone as it continued to ring. 

“Wh—” Ares checked his watch. “It’s 5:32, why?”

Persephone powered her phone off and gulped, looking at him with frightened eyes. “Dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Swoonie for letting me quote you!


	8. Fine Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, sorry this took so long! Depression sucks and made this one hard to articulate. Good news is that before I ended up in this little pit I made significant progress on the next few chapters.
> 
> Thank you Diana for the last minute beta, you're an absolute gem!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Ares, what time is it?” she asked, her eyes never moving from her phone as it continued to ring. She recognized that number, the number she was made to memorize as a kid going to chess competitions and swim meets. _Sweet child_, her mother used to say, _you never know what evils exist behind the next corner._

“Wh—” Ares checked his watch. “It’s 5:32, why?”

Persephone made up her mind and powered her phone off, gulping down the lump in her throat. “Dawn,” she uttered, her voice a testament to the fear coursing through her. She couldn’t imagine exactly what her mother would say; truthfully she didn’t want to know. 

“Did you just hang up on Demeter?” asked Ares, his eyes wide with surprise. 

“Um, yeah, I think I just did,” she said with a breathless laugh. 

“What next, Kore?”

.

Hades stood in his living room, clutching his drink with such a force that tiny spider web like cracks had weaved themselves into the glass at each of his fingertips. When one finally broke through the skin, drawing the smallest amount of ichor from his ring finger, he inhaled sharply and moved to the kitchen to throw it away. 

Persephone had left hours before without saying much other than “I’m sorry, I have to go.” Whatever had happened, he knew that she needed space. Hades prayed that it wasn’t him who scared her away, and hoped that she would be back, but _gods_ whatever it was he just wanted to make it better. _Fates, please let her be okay_, he begged internally. 

He dumped the liquid into the sink and as the glass connected with a _thump_ to the bottom of the empty trashcan, the front door opened.

“Hades?” called Persephone from the living room. 

“Sweetness?” Hades nearly ran to her, wrapping her tightly in his arms when he saw her. She looked withdrawn, like maybe she had cried a little, but the smile she gave him repaired the small fractures in his mind that had been saying he had done something wrong. 

She hugged him back earnestly, taking a moment to revel in the safety of his embrace. “I’m sorry I left like that.”

“Oh, Persephone, no, don’t ever be sorry. Are you okay? What happened?” Hades couldn’t bring himself to pull back and look at her, not when he was just so relieved that she was okay. 

“It’s a long story,” she sighed, “but I spoke to a friend and they helped me work through a few things. 

It was then that Hades heard the front door close and looked up to see Ares watching them with a smug smile. Finally he loosened his grip on the small, pink goddess to eye her curiously. “_This_ is the friend you called?”

“I figured he’d have better insight into how to win a trial by combat, but then—I mean, now—well—”

“I’m going to be her champion,” said Ares, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on a nearby chair.

Hades raised an eyebrow at Persephone. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Persephone thought for a moment. _Is this what I want?_ Slowly she nodded affirmatively and a relieved look washed over Hades’ face. 

“That’s—I’m—” Hades sighed and looked over at Ares. “Thank you, Ares.”

Ares nodded, eyeing the two of them. Hades still had his arms wrapped around Persephone and either she didn’t notice, or she was perfectly content there. _Interesting._

Almost as if Hades had read his mind he dropped his arms and stepped back from her, coughing awkwardly and dropping his gaze to the ground, acting as if he’d been caught doing something indecent. 

“Hades,” said Persephone, slowly, wrapping her arms around herself, “there’s more. I think mama knows.”

“How did she find out?” Hades questioned nervously.

“Well, the texts, they were from—”

“_Pictures_ from that little fuckwad, Apollo” Ares interjected, venom dripping from his words. 

Persephone cleared her throat and shot him a look. Ares returned her look with a wink. “Those pictures he took of me, he sent them to mama. I haven’t talked to her, but he threatened to send them by morning if I didn’t come home and, well, she called me.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Hades. 

Persephone shook her head. “About her? I don’t know, I shut my phone off. But, we need to go to Zeus, we’re out of time.” 

Hades stiffened at the suggestion and nodded curtly. Logical—It was logical, but all of this was happening at a pace that made his head spin. He could only imagine what Persephone must be feeling. Just as Hades made a move to get his keys he stopped and turned back to her. “Persephone, are you sure that this is what you want?”

Persephone opened her mouth to speak, but Ares interrupted, nearly snarling, “Apollo would burn her alive, I’ve seen it. If you have any other ideas, _please_, let’s hear it.”

Hades saw the deflated look wash over Persephone’s face. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and Hades frowned, imagining that if she let go that she might just fall to pieces right there on his living room floor. Decency be damned, he couldn’t see her like this. He extended his arm out to her, brushing his fingertips against her shoulder, asking silently what he was too afraid to articulate. 

She looked up with a small, grateful smile and moved to him, allowing him to gather her in a tight embrace once more. 

“We’ll go to Zeus,” said Hades, finally, after he felt her relax, “but Ares, I don’t think you should come.”

“Why?” demanded Ares. 

“You may have favor with Hera, but Zeus isn’t exactly your number one fan. It might be better if you let me handle this.” Hades knew his brother and knew he would only use the opportunity to try and intimidate Ares, which could only turn into an argument. It was the last thing he wanted.

Ares considered his words for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. “Hera is not going to like this.”

“No,” Hades admitted, “maybe you should talk to her first.”

“Yeah,” Ares sighed, “yeah.” He turned and grabbed his jacket. With a hand on the doorknob he turned to look back at Persephone. “Let me know and I’ll be ready. It’s almost over.”

“It’s almost over,” she agreed. Persephone gave Ares a small wave before closed the door behind him.

.

Being in Olympus made her nervous. The feeling of the sun on her face and the knowledge of who put it there made her stomach churn, and she was thankful that she hadn’t had a chance to eat since last night. 

She felt like she was being crushed from all angles. 

By now Demeter was probably frantic, exhausting all possibilities and turning over every stone. Persephone thought that the last place she would think to check would be the Underworld, but since passing the checkpoint into Olympus she felt like she was leaving herself very open to her mother’s wrath if she were to be located. 

There was no doubt in her mind that she was already here—_somewhere_. It had been three hours since she sent her to voicemail, and how else would she have gotten the number for the phone she wasn’t supposed to have? Artemis. Persephone had been ‘missing’ for days, her roommate had no loyalties left and probably given in easily. Demeter was convincing, even without the spoken threat of violence, but Persephone doubted that it had taken that much. 

Hades pulled up in the back lot of the tallest building in the center of Olympus, which was probably only half the size of Tower One. The lot was completely vacant and Persephone sighed, momentarily relieved. He parked to the left of a large, metal door. With the angle they were conveniently hidden from view of the road.

“Wait here,” said Hades as he cut the engine. He unfolded his tall frame from the car, emerging with his black crown floating just above the top of his head and a dark, misty air trailing on the heels of his patent leather shoes—no doubt on purpose. 

A chill ran down Persephone’s spine as the gravity of everything settled on her once more, and she sunk further down into the passenger seat. She closed her eyes and hummed quietly to herself, attempting to calm her nerves. 

It was nearly twenty minutes later when the passenger door opened and the warm air rushed in. The sudden movement startled her and she gasped, looking up at Hades with wide eyes. The same illustrious air hung over him, but he looked at her with soft eyes. He knelt down to be at her eye level, reaching out to take her small hand in his.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Persephone nodded and stood from the car. Hades stood with her and placed a soft hand on her shoulder, guiding her into the building. 

Once inside they stepped into a large, industrial looking elevator lit with unforgiving fluorescent lights. Persephone squinted, blinking a few times and allowing her eyes to adjust. Once they did she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the doors. She had changed into a black suit before they left. The first button of her blazer sat just above the very bottom of her sternum, a depth that filled her with a warm sense of maturity. It was something that her mother would have never let her wear. The pants hugged her hips and flared out at the bottom, allowing her heels to peak out only a little. They made her legs look longer than they were. 

Her face in the reflection didn’t give in to the nervousness that filled the pit of her stomach like a plague, and she took solace in that, rolling her shoulders back and trying to look as imposing as possible. She happened to catch the way that Hades looked at her, a proud smile on his face at the way she accessed herself. 

Standing next to him she felt like she could do anything. 

The doors finally opened to an empty floor, plastic hanging from the exposed beams of the ceiling. Persephone gave Hades a quizzical look, unsure if this is where they were supposed to be. 

He nodded and guided her out of the elevator with a hand on the small of her back. Leaning down he whispered in her ear, “I didn’t want to risk running into anyone.”

Before she could respond they stepped around a large sheet of plastic, revealing Zeus leaning casually against a wide, cement pillar. 

“So,” started Zeus, his voice reverberating through the empty floor, “why the secret meeting?” he asked, his eyebrow raised as his gaze settled on Persephone. 

Persephone looked to Hades, who only nodded again. She cleared her throat. “I’ve come to press charges against Apollo for rape and assault.”

Zeus pushed himself off the pillar and scoffed, looking to Hades for confirmation. Hades responded by crossing his arms over his chest. “Charges?” Zeus snorted. “Do you have evidence?”

“Yes,” she replied, “but I don’t need it.”

“And why is that?” he probed.

“I request a trial by combat,” she declared, her voice steady.

“Trial by—are you serious?” he stammered, eyes wide.

“Very,” she assured, mirroring Hades stance and crossing her arms over her chest. 

Zeus looked at her for a long moment, then back to his brother who had an unreadable expression on his face. “And I suppose you’re—what?” His gaze snapped back to her, his eyes narrowed slightly as he looked her up and down, critically. “Going to fight Apollo yourself?”

Persephone’s mouth snapped closed, startled by the dark tone that clung around the edges of his question.

“No,” Hades interjected, mirroring his brother’s harshness, “she’ll be calling a champion.”

“Oh, wonderful,” replied Zeus, rolling his eyes. “And let me guess, you’ve valiantly decided to be her champion? What, she’ll only fuck you if you win, right?”

“No,” snapped Persephone. It didn’t go unnoticed by either King that her eyes had glazed over a deep crimson. Zeus’ lips parted slightly in surprise. “Ares will be my campion.”

“Ares?” questioned Zeus, suddenly amused. He hummed and began pacing, his hands templed in front of him. “Alright,” he agreed abruptly before stopping in front of Persephone, bending at the waist so his face was just inches from hers. “What should I tell Demeter? She’s up in my office right now. Been looking for you all morning.”

Persephone gasped, “What?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Perhaps you wouldn’t since you hung up on her.” Zeus stood up straight, a pleased smile on his face, and cocked his head at her, smugly. “Had some interesting pictures of you on her phone from some unknown number. Say, this meeting wouldn’t happen to be related, would it?”

Hades stepped forward, grabbing Zeus roughly by the lapels of his jacket and slamming him into the pillar. The pillar cracked under the force, a few pieces of cement raining down on the two gods as it threatened to collapse. “How fucking dare you,” growled Hades, his skin darkening slowly. “You knew?”

Zeus’ smile remained unencumbered. “The trial is in three days,” announced Zeus after a few long moments. “I’ll tell Demeter that Persephone is being hidden away until then for her safety.”

Persephone heard a deep, animalistic sounding snarl ricochet through Hades’ chest as he let his brother go reluctantly. He turned and walked back towards the elevator, leaving Zeus smiling down at the Goddess of Spring. 

“Well,” he grinned, wiping the dust from his jacket, “nice to finally meet you.” Zeus walked in the opposite direction as Hades without another word, chuckling to himself as he left.

When Persephone found Hades he was by the elevator, pacing and shaking his head.

“Hades,” she called out quietly, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a concerned look washing over his face.

Persephone nodded and extended a hand to him. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her as he took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Zeus is an ass.”

“Little bit,” she agreed, giving him a warm smile. 

Hades stepped closer to her and brushed a loose curl behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just—Well, I’m just really glad this is almost over,” she admitted, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“I am as well.” 

Hades began to move towards the elevator, but Persephone held his hand tightly, keeping her feet planted firmly. He turned back to her, his head tilted slightly in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I want to revisit where we left off earlier,” she uttered, just an octave above a whisper. “If—if that’s okay with you.”

For a moment he gave her a questioning look. Suddenly his brain seemed to grasp what she was referring to. His bottom lip trembled a little, almost like he was trying to articulate all of the reasons why they shouldn’t, but at the same time trying to articulate all of the reasons why they should. Once he realized that he wasn’t forming words he made up his mind quickly and began to nod, nearly frantically and placed a shaking hand to her cheek. 

Persephone smiled and turned her head, placing a soft kiss to the pad of his ring finger where the glass had cut him earlier. He slivered at her kiss and gave her a crooked smile, brushing the tips of his fingers against her full bottom lip. 

Unlike before she pressed her lips to his urgently, her feet hovering off the ground to meet his height, only allowing each of them to relish the moment in the warmth of the kiss. They kissed each other slow and purposefully. Hades wrapped an arm around her and lost his other hand in her soft hair, and Persephone hummed happily against his lips.

For the moment, things were fine.


	9. Poppy: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be one chapter, but I wrote too much fluff, so _whoops_, it's three parts now.

_Three days later…_

Persephone shot up in bed, the same nightmares still running through her head. She clutched her chest, gathering the material of her nightshirt into a tight fist, desperate for anything to cling to. She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, willing her breathing to slow down. It nearly stopped altogether when a long arm wrapped her in a tight embrace.

“You’re okay,” whispered Hades, his voice still thick with sleep. He placed a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re safe here, Kore.”

She let out a breath and melted into him. Hades laid back down, gently pulling her with him and petting her hair.

“What was it this time?” he murmured, moving to pull the blankets back over them.

“The same,” she sighed, nuzzling into his neck.

He hummed and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger as he closed his eyes. 

Persephone closed her eyes and smiled to herself, thinking back to the last few days. She hadn’t gone to bed alone since and he had just _held_ her, planting soft kisses on any part of her face that he could reach. There had been no expectations and no pressure—just simple. It was a wonderful thing to come home to.

Work, however, had been a different story. By now all three realms had seen the papers; the open invitation to her trial. Her champion wasn’t common knowledge, but a small part of her wished it had been since on multiple occasions she had heard whispering behind her back about how _excited_ everyone was to watch her get pummeled. It was disheartening. What had only made it worse was finding out that Thanatos has been collecting bets. When she told Hades this by mistake, he had threatened to fire—that being the _least_ violent thing—the God of Death and, _wow_, was that a cliff that she never wanted to have to talk him down from again. 

Mostly she was able to find solace in the library and quietly do her work. No one really ventured there and the whispers didn’t matter because it was a _library_—common practice. The shades never bothered her since they didn’t know what was going on.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been back to school. Her professors did understand, though their emails phrased as if they’d _never_ get the homework that they’d sent her. She supposed that even they had read the papers. 

She fell asleep again, unbothered and soothed by the melody of his even breathing. 

The alarm went off at five a.m. and Persephone groaned, reaching over trying blindly to find the snooze button, but only managing to hit the edge of the side table a few times with her fingers. Chuckling, Hades reached over her and turned off the alarm, gently trailing his fingers along the length of her outstretched arm, finally coming to rest on her shoulder.

“Good morning,” he mumbled.

“Good morning,” she sighed. 

“Do you want breakfast?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow. 

She hummed, turning onto her back to gaze up at him. “My last meal?” she joked lightly. 

Hades frowned and brushed a few strands of hair from her eyes with his long fingers. “Don’t think like that. You have Ares to take care of it.”

“Well,” she started, then shook her head. “Breakfast sounds great.”

Without waiting for a reply she headed off in the direction of the bathroom. She heard Hades sigh from behind her and it almost stopped her in her tracks, but what else was there to say? Everyone was thinking it. 

Persephone closed the door behind her and stripped off her pajamas, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. She reached for the scissors on the counter that she had stashed there a few days ago and cut her hair into a short pixie cut. The petals that floated to the ground almost immediately wilted, a further testament to her mood. She turned on the shower and stepped in, not bothering to wait until it got warm.

She kept her shower short, the thought of breakfast making her stomach growl angrily. Once she was done she wrapped herself in a towel and tip-toed down the hallway to the guest bedroom where her clothes were. She dressed herself in black leggings and a dark blue tank top, throwing on her heavy, pale blue cardigan to keep herself warm. 

With an exasperated sigh, she made her way to the kitchen. As she drew closer the warm smells of breakfast made her mouth water. 

“That smells amazing,” she practically drooled. She perched herself on a stool and watched Hades as he chopped a red bell pepper and sprinkled the pieces into the pan. Silently she thanked herself for forcing him to go shopping for fresh vegetables.

“It’s almost done,” he smiled, peeking at her from the corner of his eye.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Patience, Sweetness,” he replied, smugly.

Persephone groaned and bounced on her stool. Breakfast is something that she had really begun to love spending with Hades. Growing up she hadn’t tried many things and he was eager to catch her up on what she’d been missing. On top of that, the pure _joy_ on his face when she loved something he cooked made her heart _sing_.

Hades laughed in response while adding mushrooms, followed by chives, potato wedges, beans, cheddar cheese, and spices into the pan. Then he cracked a few eggs into the mixture. While that sat on a simmer he threw an avocado into a glass bowl and mashed it, finishing it off with some lime, salt, pepper, and diced tomatoes. Her eyes went wide when he put all of that into two spinach wraps and rolled them before putting them back into the pan to crisp the outside to a beautiful light brown. 

When everything was done, Hades sat on the stool next to her and slowly slid the plate in front of her with an eyebrow raised. 

Persephone looked between him and the plate a couple times, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, before finally picking up the wrap and sinking her teeth into it. 

“Oh my gods!” she squealed around a large bite. “What is this?”

“A breakfast burrito,” answered Hades, chuckling. 

She hummed happily, dancing in her seat with every bite. It wasn’t until three quarters of the way through the burrito that Persephone sat back, sighing contently, chewing around her current mouthful slowly. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. 

“So,” Hades started, amused, “I’m guessing you hate this one?”

“What!?” she exclaimed, blinking at Hades quickly. “This is perfect! I’ve never had something so delicious! You’re such a great cook, I mean the potatoes and the _avocado_ and—” she stopped, narrowing her eyes at him. He was giggling at her rambling, trying to hide it in his chewing. “And, you’re joking.”

“You’re easily pleased,” he remarked, shrugging. 

Persephone hummed, wiggling excitedly. “I want this in my mouth _all the time_,” she mused, taking another bite of her burrito and continuing to wiggle her shoulders excitedly. “You have magic hands.”

Hades choked on his burrito, looking at her like a deer caught in the headlights. A few beats passed before Persephone picked up on the double entendre. 

“Oh!” she squeaked, covering her mouth with her hands. “Not like that!”

He coughed, patting his hand against his chest in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Oh, well, that’s not what I mean!” she corrected herself hurriedly, her face turning a violent shade of magenta. “I mean, I don’t know if that’s what I mean. I mean we’ve never—I wouldn’t know—I, um—_sugar snaps_.” She hid her face in her hands, her ears burning.

When Hades finally caught his breath he erupted into a loud belly laugh, doubling over and nearly falling out of his chair. 

“Stop,” she groaned. “I’m so embarrassed, it’s not funny.”

Hades wiped the tears from his eyes and stopped to take some deep breaths. “Oh Sweetness,” he sighed, “you are really something else.”

Persephone huffed a little, picking apart a small piece of leftover tortilla. They both fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound was Hades occasionally sipping his coffee. 

Finally, he cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” he asked suddenly.

“Nervous,” she shrugged. “It doesn’t feel real. Sometimes, like right now, it just feels like a bad dream. Then something reminds me that _no_, this is very, very real. It just all seems like a lot of fuss for some stupid village girl.”

“You’re not just some stupid village girl, Persephone,” said Hades solemly. “You deserve justice. It’s not too late to call this off if this isn’t what you want.”

“Then what? He’ll just get away with it? What if he does this to someone else?” Persephone let the thought drift into another and she gasped. “What if he _has_ done this to someone else?”

Hades lips pressed into a firm line at the thought. Knowing who that shitty little sun god was, he was almost sure he had done this before, he was too cocky, too confident. In fact, Hades briefly remembered a rumor that surfaced years ago about a nymph coming forward, though he didn’t hear much about it in the months following—or ever again, really. 

Persephone shook her head and grimaced. “Women are afraid to step forward and seek justice for what powerful gods do to them. I don’t want to be one of them.”

“You’re not,” assured Hades, reaching out to take her hand in his. “You have changed the conversation just by stepping forward and demanding he be held accountable. I know this method isn’t exactly ideal, but I’m sure women are looking up to you and finding strength in you.”

She looked at him for a few moments. He looked so genuine, _proud_ even. Any doubts about the next coming hours seemed to dissipate. _Almost_. “Do you think it’s wrong that I’m letting Ares fight my battle?” she asked abruptly.

“Maybe I’m biased, but I’d much rather you be safe.”

“But, do you think more women would step forward if I stood up to him, rather than some man?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that, but I think what you’re doing is right. You’ve been through a lot and it’s okay to ask for help. There’s no shame in that. No one will think less of you if you let Ares win this for you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she conceded, but there was an edge of bitterness in her tone.

Hades ran his thumbs softly over her knuckles and gave her a warm smile. “Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”


	10. Poppy: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I've been _stoked_ about.
> 
> Now excuse me while I hide.

Hades crossed over to the passenger door and opened it, extending his arm to help Persephone from the car. She stood, squinting up at the stadium against the overbearing rays of the sun. She had seen pictures of hippodrome in Olympus, but nothing compared to seeing it in person. It was a massive, oblong structure and decorated lavishly with archways and columns. 

It was sort of a joke among the three realms, the stadium that was never finished though the chariot races had ended long ago. For a thousand years, and then some, artists had been tirelessly adding carvings to the stonework in just about every corner. When it had first been built it served simple purposes: chariot races, political demonstrations, and bloody trials such as these, but as the years wore on many seemed to shy away from the more barbaric forms of entertainment. Now it still remained a testament to the great strides made after the Titanomachy, but was mostly used for fashion shows and royal weddings, lending to an everlasting need for _flourish_. Hera’s orders, no doubt. 

The sound of another car door closing startled Persephone, but she relaxed as she saw Eros bounding towards her followed by Ares, whose cocky saunter was almost nauseating, considering the circumstances. 

Eros nearly ran to her, pulling her into a warm hug. “Hey, baby girl,” he whispered against her hair.

“Hey,” she greeted, burying her face in his shoulder. 

He stepped back, holding her by her shoulders at arm’s-length, accessing her carefully. “Leggings and a tank top?” he scrutinized. “I know I packed you a cuter outfit in that bag.” He shook his head disapprovingly, releasing her shoulders only to fuss with her hair, which had grown down to the middle of her back since she’d cut it this morning. 

Ares swatted his hands away to take his turn wrapping the small goddess in a vice-like embrace. “Hey, Buttercup. You ready to watch me beat that purple shithead into the dirt?” Ares laughed.

Persephone wiggled free, giving him a halfhearted laugh. “Where’s your armor?” she asked, eyeing the casual black sweatpants and tight, white tee shirt he was wearing.

Ares gave her a smug wink. “Element of surprise, babe.”

Hades rolled his eyes and checked his watch. 

“We should go,” said Eros, elbowing Ares in the arm.

“Yeah,” Ares agreed, making a show of stretching his arms out to the side, and tilting his head from side to side, resulting in a series of disturbing cracks. “Gotta go get loose, you know?”

“You’re absolutely repulsive,” Hades mumbled under his breath, a deadpan expression on his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend, _Your Majesty_,” hissed Ares with an exaggerated bow before he turned back to Persephone. He pressed his large finger to her forehead and pushed her back, causing her to rock on her heels. “Bye, Lilac, wish me luck.”

Persephone cupped her hands together, a soft red glow seeping from between her fingers. She opened her hands, holding out a small, red flower to Ares. “Good luck,” she whispered, surprisingly tearfully.

Ares smirked, cupping her cheek and using the pad of his thumb to wipe the tears that escaped. “Neat trick, got any more?”

Persephone laughed quietly, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him softly on the cheek. Ares smiled, giving her a small wave before marching towards the entrance of the arena. 

Eros scooped her up into another bear hug. “I wish I had more time to fix your hair,” he murmured into the crown of her head. “I’ll see you soon, right, Perse?”

“Thank you for being such a wonderful friend, Eros,” Persephone whispered into his ear, kissing him on his temple.

Something about the waver of her voice made him stop. Eros grabbed her face in both hands and looked at her quizzically, eyebrows set in a hard line. “Are you okay?”

Persephone nodded with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Eros hesitated for a moment, but eventually he smiled warmly. With one final kiss to her forehead he left, jogging after Ares.

When they had finally disappeared into the large building Persephone turned to Hades. Her shoulders drooped but she wore the bravest smile she could muster. He seemed to buy it, returning her smile in a way that seemed to reach his eyes.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, brushing the hair from her face and letting the tips of his fingers linger in her soft hair. “I can walk you most of the way, but I have to go to the stands before it can start.”

Persephone nodded, willing herself not to cry. He couldn’t see her like that. 

“Ready?” he asked, his hand falling back to his side. 

She nodded again, unable to find the words. As he started towards the stadium Persephone felt her stomach drop. “Hades, wait.”

Hades turned to face her. “What—”

“I love you,” she blurted, hands shaking at her sides. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about love, but I think that it’s what this is, at least.”

Hades searched her face, as if looking for the joke. His mouth hung open in surprise. “Sweetness, I—”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s wishful thinking to hope you feel the same, and it’s pretty unfair that I just sprung this on you. I just—I just needed you to know.”

After a few long moments a wide smile stretched across his face, his whole body answering in slow motion. He moved to her and lifted her off her feet and into a tight embrace. “Oh Kore,” he breathed. “I love you, too.” 

Persephone sighed into the hug, relieved, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Hades kissed her sweetly before finally setting her back on her feet.

“Okay,” she grinned, “I’m ready.”

They made their way into the stadium together, weaving their way through the long hallways. Hades did his best to keep a professional distance, though he couldn’t do much to wipe away the smile on his face. When they finally reached the fork, they stopped.

Hades closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths before turning back to Persephone. He opened his mouth to tell her good luck, but something about the look in her eyes made him stop. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but she hardly looked like the broken goddess he had transported into his home just eight days ago. 

But, there was _something_ else. 

Every ounce of resolve shattered when she began to look concerned—for _him_. No doubt the tears that had sprung to his eyes had given him away, but before she could say anything he kissed her, long and hard. The tears that fell from his eyes spilled over both their cheeks, and when eventually he pulled away, he laughed breathlessly, wiping her cheeks softly with the palms of his hands.

“Hades—” she started to say, but he cut her off with another soft kiss.

“Kore, I’m sorry, I’m just overreacting,” he admitted, taking both of her hands in his own. “I’m sorry. This—this is almost over, and when it is, I’d like to take you to dinner and discuss us, if you’ll have me.”

“I’d love to,” she beamed. 

He gave her a watery, hopeful smile before he started down the hallway towards the stands, waiting until the very last second to let go of her hands. “I’ll see you soon,” he said before turning on his heels and walking away.

Just as he was about to turn the corner he looked back to where they had just been standing, a little surprised to find that Persephone hadn’t moved. She was instead looking after him with tears of her own leaving tracks down her pink cheeks.

“Persephone,” he uttered, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just afraid. I don’t want to disappoint myself.” 

“Sweetness, why would you—”

Persephone forced a dry laugh, waving off his question with her hand and using the other one to wipe the tears from her eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m just overthinking it, I think. I’ll see you up there.” She turned and walked away quickly, not staying to watch the grim look wash over Hades’ face. 

.

She stood pressed against the cold stone wall next to the archway that opened into the floor of the arena, trying to stay as invisible as possible. The filigree on the wall behind her dug into her shoulder blades and slowly, as if any sudden movement might give her away, she adjusted to a more comfortable place. 

Behind her she could hear everyone start to arrive, talking excitedly to each other. 

“She probably said ‘yes’ and then changed her mind in the morning,” someone remarked. Persephone balled her hands into tight fists and closed her eyes.

“I bet this is how all those Goddesses of Eternal Maidenhood party. She’s just upset because he didn’t call her again,” someone laughed.

“I’m guessing she had too much to drink and forgot that she wanted it.” 

Persephone’s eyes, rimmed with red, shot open at the sound of the speakers crackling.

“Welcome my friends!” roared Zeus’ voice, reverberating off the old, stone walls. “Thank you for coming to witness the trail of—” his voice trailed off and Persephone could hear him suck in a breath, “—Apollo!” he bellowed. At the sound of his name the crowd erupted in cheers, various _I love you!_s coming from all over. Persephone finally moved, allowing herself to peak around the arch. She watched as Apollo made his way to the center of the stadium, waving and pumping his fist in the air. He wore armor: a bronze cuirass, greaves strapped to his legs, and a shield strapped to his arm. Apollo also carried a heavy looking bronze helmet at his side. Persephone guessed that Zeus had told him who he’d be fighting if he decided not to call a champion himself.

“And now, his accuser,” Zeus started again after the noise from the crowd died down, “Persephone!”

Persephone stepped from behind the wall. She wasn’t greeted by everyone the way Apollo had been. She never expected to be cheered for, she was just some b-grade goddess that had grown up in the mortal realm. However, she didn’t expect the _anger_.

“Slut! You should be thankful!” someone yelled.

“You’re ruining his life!” yelled another. 

Marching forward she took a deep breath, blocking out all of the voices. It felt like it had taken years, but finally, she reached the center and stopped, keeping a few feet of distance between her and Apollo. She turned towards the long side of the stadium, looking up at where Zeus was standing at the podium between the large columns. 

“It’s a shame,” Apollo said through his teeth, “I would have loved one more night together. You just _had_ to go and fuck it up.”

_It’s almost over_, she thought to herself.

“Persephone,” Zeus’ voice boomed, an echo on its tail, “who do you name as your champion?”

Everyone in the stands was quiet awaiting her answer. She opened her mouth only to falter, her tongue failing to sound out the name. 

_Ares._

Persephone could hear the blood rushing in her ears, but her heart was strangely still; an eerie calm resting over her. She looked to her mother sitting in the stands next to Hera; her mouth pressed in a firm line. A chill shot down her spine. This was the first time she had seen her mother in _months_. And _this_ was their reunion. It was clear that she was worried for her, though even from where she is she can see the anger pooling behind her emerald eyes. _Why did I let you come here?_ She could hear her saying. _I should have kept you locked away, Little Bean. I should have kept you safe._ It nearly draws the name out of her. 

Next she looked to Eros, whose hands were clasped tightly together in front of his chin, head slightly bowed like maybe he was praying. His eyes were pleading and his shoulders still, as if he were holding his breath. Hecate was next to him, sitting forward on her chair gripping the armrests with white knuckles. 

The look on Hades’ face was the one that ripped the beating heart from her chest. His brow was furrowed and he looked withdrawn and out of place, so much different than his expression from earlier. His hair was sticking wildly in every direction, but even worse, his tie was _crooked_. She wanted nothing more than to run to him and fix it. She wanted to kiss every part of his face until it smoothed out to the sharp and dignified, yet warm and caring King she had grown so fond of. 

But, she couldn’t. He knew that, too. 

Last she looked to Ares who was the only one of the gods to be standing. His posture was rigid, but his expression was otherwise unreadable. Stoic was probably the word for it.

Oh, how she wished to be more like him. How she hoped she was strong enough. 

“I have no champion,” uttered Persephone. Collective murmurs could be heard throughout the crowd. _They need to hear you._ She rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat. “I will be my own champion,” she declared, louder this time. She never took her eyes off Ares. His face had grown solemn in the first utterance, but now he looked panicked. She could see him shaking his head back in forth in disbelief, saying ‘no’ over and over again, but she couldn’t hear him.

Hades was at his side quickly, gripping onto his shoulders with a force that she was sure was bruising. He was yelling at him, inches from his face and trying desperately to steal his gaze. Ares just stood there, defeated, his eyes boring into her with look that only said that she had signed her death warrant, and that hurt the most. Maybe he didn’t think she could do it, but she’d have to try. Hades was _accusing_ him, but hadn’t he known? Hadn’t they both known? They had wished her goodbye like it would be the last, at least for a while, but maybe they couldn’t sense it. Everything had always been decided for her, but this time it was different. This was her idea and she was sure that eventually they’d understand. She had to take this for herself, no one else could save her. 

Her lips silently formed ‘I’m sorry’ with a weak smile. She placed a hand over her heart in hopes that the gesture would be enough. Ares closed his eyes as a single tear slid down his cheek, glittering with the lights in the stadium. He just shook his head. 

_I’m sorry._


	11. Poppy: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW/ TW: graphic violence, rape/ non-con
> 
> Fair warning: I did not hold back with this one. The first part is safe, but the second part (about two thirds of the way through) may be upsetting to some readers. Please proceed with caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *skips merrily to the cliffs of despair*

Even at nine in the morning the sun was beating down incessantly. Beads of sweat marked his face, breaking through the dirt and the mostly dried blood. Ares wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and sighed. 

The sun gleamed off his armor, but it was cool to the touch, like his momentarily mellowed temper in these fleeting moments. He didn’t know how long he had been walking for, his fingers grazing over the tops of the tall grass, but the further he got from the war that had ended abruptly just over the hills behind him, the more the anger seemed to dissipate. It was always like this afterwards; he would feel better for a few days, the burning that always existed under the first layer of his skin was just a faint reminder of who he was. Then, slowly, it would come back as a raging fire, threatening to burn him alive if he didn’t find relief, and fast.

But these moments, these he _really_ enjoyed.

__

He marched on, the ampelodesmos clinking softly against the greaves strapped to his shins, a soft song that was carried away on the back of the warm breeze. Ares smiled to himself, turning his face towards the sun and basking in its warmth. 

__

An unfamiliar sound rustled nearby and he stopped as it approached quickly. His eyes scanned over the grass, looking for the source of the noise. When he couldn’t see the—whatever it was—charging at him aside from the grass moving wildly, his muscles tensed as he prepared to fight. 

__

_Clank!_

__

A small—_really small_—pink form ran into him with such immense force that Ares stumbled back a step. The pink thing fell back into the weeds with a yelp, disappearing completely.

__

Ares peered over, pushing the grass aside with his hands. He found it, laying on its back with a hand clasped over a growing bump on its forehead—_her_ forehead. She wore a chiton, and for a moment he could have sworn she was male, but her long hair was braided to the length of her waist and decorated with small white flowers. Males may wear their hair that way in Olympus, but he’d be surprised if one would be so bold at this time in the mortal realm. He cocked his head at her, his lips pressed in a tight line as he tried desperately to hide his amusement.

__

“Ow,” she muttered, rubbing her head with the most displeased pout staining her mouth. She was looking up at him with large doe eyes and, gods, he could swear that this little thing looked _mad_. 

__

Ares couldn’t help it, he chuckled.

__

She scowled at him, and, well, that only made it _funnier_.

__

“It’s not polite to laugh at people you just injured, you—you—so-and-so,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

__

“You’re not very intimidating laying on the ground in the mud,” he quipped. “Who are you?”

__

The small pink thing scrambled to her feet, crossing her arms once more and continuing to glare at him through her long eyelashes. Ares didn’t like kids much but, wow, this one had spunk. “Mama said not to talk to strangers,” she sneered.

__

He chuckled, “But you are.”

__

“But—well—_sugar snaps_,” she groaned before turning on her heels and stomping away in the other direction.

__

Ares laughed again and followed her, having no issue keeping pace with the tiny form. 

__

“Stop following me!” she snapped, doing her best to walk faster.

__

“I can’t, you shouldn’t be out here by yourself,” he declared.

__

“You’re not my mom!”

__

“Where is your mom, little nymph?”

__

She stopped and spun to look at him, her hands on her hips. “I’m not a nymph!”

__

“Then what are you?” He made a show of sizing her up, even going so far as to stalk around her once.

__

“A goddess!” she exclaimed, giving him a hard—well, hard for _her_—shove as he crossed in front of her. She stepped around him and continued walking. 

__

Ares laughed, falling back into step next to her. “A goddess, huh?” He scratched his chin. “And what is such a young goddess doing in the mortal realm?” he wondered.

__

She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips in a firm line.

__

His eyes sparkled, this was his favorite game. “Do you go to Olympus often?” he asked, looking for the answer in her reaction.

__

Spinning on her heels hard, she faced him. She had perked up at the mention of Olympus, a mild curiosity flashing across her face.

__

“So you grew up here, then?” he probed, though it was more of an observation.

__

“What’s it to you?” she snipped. 

__

“Does your mom live here?”

__

She averted her gaze and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. 

__

“Hm, I don’t know many goddesses that live here,” he lied, reigning in the knowing smile that pulled at the corners of his lips.

__

She smiled triumphantly and looked at him again, puffing out her chest a bit. _This little thing couldn’t be more easy to read_, he thought.

__

“Only one,” he said, eyeing her smugly.

__

Her smile faltered. Finally, he had her. 

__

“Say, what’s Demeter’s daughter doing _on her own_ so far from home?” he questioned, mirroring the triumphant smile that had just fallen from her face.

__

She gaped at him, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “How did you do that!?”

__

“You made it easy,” he laughed. Ares started to walk off in the direction she was headed, keeping his pace slow.

__

It only took a few moments, but soon she ran to catch up, falling into step beside him.

__

“What’s your name?” she asked, peering up at him.

__

He hummed, smiling. “What’s yours?” he countered.

__

“I asked first,” she insisted.

__

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he retorted in a sing-song voice.

__

“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m Kore.”

__

“Well, Kore, I’m Ares.”

__

For a few long minutes they walked in silence. Kore hummed to herself and played with the end of her braid. Ares watched her through the corner of his eye, wondering how it was possible for such a young goddess to walk so calmly next to him. He couldn’t feel the fear in her at all. This wasn’t something he was used to, especially since he was covered in blood. Usually people ran at the sight of him. He had _earned_ that right, at least.

__

“What are those flowers in your hair?” he asked nonchalantly, plucking one from the crown of her head. 

__

“Daisies,” she said, swatting his hand away.

__

“Are they your favorite?” he pressed.

__

“No,” she replied unamused.

__

“Then why do you have so many in your hair?”

__

Kore shrugged. “I don’t know, they just grow there.” She stopped walking and undid her braid, throwing her hair about so that all the daisies fell to the ground. Ares watched as the rebraided her hair. In the places her fingertips touched white flowers bloomed, though there were many more and they were smaller than before. When she finished the braid she looked at it for a few moments, a proud smile on her face. “Lilacs,” she ginned, looking up at him.

__

Ares smiled smugly at her. He placed his large index finger on her forehead and pushed her, making it so she had to take a step back to keep from falling. “Neat trick,” he taunted. “Got any more?”

__

“Do you?” she asked, though he could tell in her tone that she wasn’t mocking him. To him it seemed like she was _genuinely_ curious. 

__

The smile melted from his face in the form of a small scowl. He was sure that little Kore would look fearful at his sudden change in mood, he’s the _God of War_ for fucks sake, but she just stood there with this little glint in her eye. He rolled his eyes and continued walking. “None that I’m going to show you, shortstuff.”

__

Kore followed, skipping circles around him. “Why not?”

__

“Because.” Silently Ares hoped that her home was close, though he hadn’t really asked her where they were walking. He needed to shake her, she was getting annoying. 

__

“Are you a god?”

__

“Yes. Why do you have so many questions?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. 

__

“What are you the god of?” she asked, ignoring him. 

__

Ares let out an exasperated sigh. “War.”

__

She looked at him with her large eyes, her whole body buzzing with wonder; he could feel it. 

__

“I kill people,” he said, flatly.

__

Kore scoffed, “You’re just a show off. I think you’re just misunderstood.”

__

“_Wha_—How _old_ are you?” 

__

“Seven.”

__

“_Seven?_ And you think you have enough wherewithal to tell _me_ that I’m _misunderstood_?” His mouth hung open in shock. She was so little and so absurd, it was downright baffling. _How did I get myself into this mess?_

__

She shrugged and kept walking next to him in silence. Ares continued to brood, occasionally scoffing audibly to himself at the idea that this small, pink stranger thought that she knew him. Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the way that Kore occasionally looked up at him, a wicked, knowing little grin on her face.

__

However, he didn’t miss the way she cupped her hands together and the soft, red hue that emitted from them. Kore slowed her walk to a near halt as she closed her eyes and scrunched up her nose as she focused. Ares turned to watch, stopping a few feet in front of her. Right before she ran into his breastplate again, she stopped, opened her eyes, and held out the most beautiful little red flower to him.

__

“This is yours,” she said softly.

__

With every ounce of delicacy he could muster, he took it from her hands with his rough, calloused fingers. “What is it?” he asked, perplexed, as he turned it in his palm carefully.

__

“It’s a red poppy,” she grinned.

__

“Why is it mine?”

__

Kore laughed. “_Because._”

__

.

__

Persephone could see the confusion on Ares’ face, he looked like he had been punched in the gut. He looked like he had lost the war. She had never seen him cry. In fact, could recall a time when she was eight that he had her convinced that the God of War couldn’t cry. “I’m the God of War,” he had boasted. He _loved_ to lay into that as if she may forget suddenly. “Crying is reserved for lesser Gods and Goddesses of weaker standing. And children—like _you_.”

__

What made it worse was Hades’ similar expression, except maybe his was more heart wrenching. He was yelling at Zeus now, who had a shit-eating grin on his face and was staring right at her. His grin mirrored the one she could see on Apollo’s face in her peripheral vision, and that made her cringe. 

__

“Persephone, could you repeat that?” said Zeus slowly. 

__

“I am not calling a champion. I will fight as my own champion,” she asserted, trying to keep her voice as even and unwavering as she could. 

__

Apollo cracked his knuckles, chuckling darkly. “Persie,” he sneered, just low enough for her to hear. “I didn’t expect this from you. Suddenly you’re not afraid to face me?” He laughed. “I can’t wait to watch your ichor soak into the ground.” 

__

“Apollo!” Zeus bellowed. “You have been charged with rape and assault. How do you plead?”

__

“Not guilty!” proclaimed Apollo, his eyes never leaving Persephone. “Merely a lovers quarrel, Your Majesty.”

__

“The fates will decide that,” said Zeus. 

__

As Zeus spoke Persephone gathered her hair to the side of her face, braiding it down her front with nimble fingers. In the wake of her touch dill littered her braid, the green striking against the deep pink of her hair. Before turning her head back up to Zeus, she kicked off her shoes and threw them towards the edge of the arena, the steady hum of the earth’s heartbeat clear under the balls of her feet. 

__

“You are allowed only the weapons your powers provide you,” continued Zeus. “No outside help will be provided. The first to present the other defeated will be awarded innocence.” He paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. “You may now begin!”

__

Cheers erupted from the crowd again, various groups chanting Apollo’s name. Apollo’s smile was sinister, and it was clear that he no longer registered the praise of the people around him. He had stripped himself of his charm, ready for the battle. 

__

He began circling her, throwing his helmet to the side with unneeded force. It skittered across the dirt before hitting the stone enclosure with a _clang_. 

__

“So this is how it ends, babe?” taunted Apollo. “I have to say, I’m a little disappointed. I thought we’d make such pretty babies.” He clicked his tongue and eyed her with a look of pity as he slowly shook his head from side to side. Undoubtedly he was thinking about the children they would have had—he would have _forced_ her to have. She took a deep breath through her nose, suppressing a gag.

__

Persephone turned, keeping her gaze on him as he circled her. In her hand a green hue seeped through her fingers. From it she slowly grew a long branch with a pointed end. She thanked the gods that he was so focused on his own words he didn’t seem to register the weapon she slowly grew. 

__

Persephone remembered this from when she was younger and Ares would talk about the wars. He had told her once with great enthusiasm, waving his spear around to emphasize his point: “I taught my men to only use their swords when their spears have broken. This is their greatest tool. It symbolizes honor and directness! It has the power of life and death. One man with a staff can take down two men wielding swords if he has the proper skill, Kore. Then, imagine adding a pointed end and turning your staff into a spear! It makes the wars all the more exciting.” 

__

_It’ll have to do_, she thought, testing the weight of the spear in her hand. 

__

“How do you think the corpse king would feel if I took you right here in the dirt?” continued Apollo. He unstrapped his shield from his arm and threw it to the side, a plume of dust trailing behind it as it skittered across the earth. “Would he break the rules and run to you, or do you think he’d just watch as I took you like the slut you are? I think he’d get sick just _looking_ at you afterwards.” Slowly he unbuckled the sides of his cuirass and threw it to the side like everything else. “That’s the last thing I’ll do, Persie. I’ll fuck you in front of all of Olympus before I beat you until you’re no longer conscious. _Then_ I’ll take my victory.”

__

“You’ll never win, Apollo. After this everyone will see who you really are,” she declared, indignant.

__

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” he chuckled, stopping in front of her and critically eyeing the spear in her hand. “Persephone, you grew a _stick_,” he mocked, a confident grin on his face. “Do you really think a stick can take down the sun?” On the last word his eyes took on a fiery, gold glow. The air around the two of them seemed to crackle as if they were standing too close to the heat of the fire.

__

Persephone took a chance and lunged forward, managing to hit him hard across the face with the blunt end of her spear. From somewhere off to her side she heard someone cheer and smiled to herself. 

__

Apollo’s mouth filled with warm ichor and he spat on the ground, wiping the dripping gold fluid from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Bitch. You’ve done it now,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. 

__

He stepped closer, but was stopped by a vine that had twisted its way around his ankle. As Apollo looked down to see what had stopped him, Persephone plunged the pointed end of the spear into his shoulder, pressing her weight into it. 

__

He grunted in pain and wrapped his hand tightly around the spear. In one swift movement he pulled the spear from his shoulder and threw it to the ground. He kicked his foot free of the vine and stepped closer to Persephone. Apollo drew the back of his hand across her face with a hard _slap_. The slap knocked her backwards, causing her to trip and fall. She landed hard on her back.

__

“That was cute,” he hissed through clenched teeth. His foot came up and connected hard into her stomach. She groaned, moving back from him as fast as she could from her position. 

__

Apollo’s top lip pulled over his teeth in a vicious sneer as he held out his hand from his chest. A blinding light forced Persephone to look away. She scrambled to her feet, trying to put as much distance between her and whatever Apollo was doing as possible.

__

In his fist formed a bow made from the rays of the sun. As Persephone reached to pick up her spear once more, she could feel the heat of his bow on her back, forever tainting the memories of running through the tall weeds in Sicily, sun on her cheeks, with the flower nymphs she had grown up with. She turned, staggering backwards, but knowing enough to keep her eyes on him. She squinted in the harsh light, struggling to make out his form. Apollo ran his middle finger and pointer finger from the arrow rest to the nocking point, a flaming, golden arrow left in their wake. 

__

He raised his bow, aiming it right at the center of her chest. As he released the arrow Persephone threw her arms out in front of her and an alder tree shot out of the ground. Apollo’s arrow hit at the center of the tree with a raucous _thump_. The sound vibrated through her bones. She breathed a sigh of relief, but when the tree burst into flames from the heat of the arrow her ichor ran cold.

__

She ran, alder trees growing quickly from every footprint she left in the sand. With every tree came another arrow in rapid succession, each one bursting into flames the same as the last. When she reached the wall she slammed her palms into it, forcing her into a quick halt. She panicked, looking around wildly for some way out. An arrow cracked against the stone beside her. She whipped around, her back pressed against the wall. From where she was, she could see the gold illuminating Apollo’s eyes flicker with frightening determination. He had the bow at his side and was slowly stalking towards her. Persephone dug her toes into the soft sand and closed her eyes for a moment in concentration. 

__

With a surprised wail Apollo thudded to the ground, his bow bouncing just out of his reach. Persephone looked up and smiled to herself, seeing that the root had grown exactly where she needed it. Red vines, laden with thorns, sprouted from the ground and wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, drawing drops of ichor from every place they pierced his skin. He cried in surprise, his body thrashing against his bonds in a momentary panic. 

__

Persephone walked towards him with a newfound confidence, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She picked up the spear she had dropped when she ran, twirling it in her hand as she drew closer. 

__

The smile dropped from her face when, in one swift movement, the vines went up in flames and Apollo jumped to his feet and lunged for his bow. Before Persephone had time to think he had pulled back another arrow and released it, hitting her in her side.

__

Persephone screamed. The breath in her lungs escaped in a strangled huff. Her vision went white, the pain of the flaming arrow seeming to set every one of her nerves on fire. She staggered back and she swore she could see Apollo laughing. In the place where the arrow had pierced her had broken out into a small flame that licked at her blue tank top. Under her clothes she could _hear_ her skin fizzle. She could feel it melting. On her tongue she tasted her own ichor, rusty and metallic.

__

Pained, short gasps escaped her lips. 

__

Without thinking she wrapped her hand around the shaft of the arrow and pulled it from her waist with a shriek and tossed it to the side. She screamed again, the arrow burning her hand from the moment she grasped it. With her undamaged hand she gripped at her side, putting pressure on what she expected to be a gaping hole. She winced, but found little ichor seeping from the wound. It had already been cauterized in the heat.

__

“Marked by the sun,” hissed Apollo as he closed the distance between them and reached out to gently stroke her cheek. “Now, win or lose, you’ll _never_ forget me.”

__

“Don’t touch me,” snapped Persephone, stepping out of his reach. Apollo’s hand shot out like a snake and grabbed her waist, his thumb pressing hard into the wound. She screamed again, doubling over as white clouded her vision once more. The only thing that kept her from falling was the grip Apollo had on her. Laughing, he released her. 

__

He leaned in close, weaving his hand into her hair and pulling sharply so that she was looking up at him. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. She struggled weakly, whimpering. Apollo kissed her neck and nipped at her pulse.

__

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against her skin. He bit at her again, this time hard enough to bruise. When she cried out he pulled her hair harder, waiting until he could feel the warmth of her ichor staining his fingers.

__

Without warning he threw her to the side. Persephone fell hard to the ground, her face dragging through the dirt. She coughed, trying hard to catch her breath. Suddenly he was on her again, holding her hands pinned behind her back with his knees between her legs, holding them open. Persephone could feel her skin bruising as she fought against him. The weight of his body dug into her muscles. His fingernails dug into her wrists, leaving deep, moon shaped imprints in her pink skin.

__

He ran his free hand up the center of her back, a touch that could be mistaken as tender if everything was different—if _he_ was someone else. A nauseous feeling rose in the pit of her stomach as the dread of what’s to come settled over her in a heavy fog. He grabbed her hair again and pulled her back, forcing her to look at him.

__

“I can feel your mother’s eyes on me now,” he hissed into her ear. “I’m going to make this the last memory she has of you.”

__

Persephone struggled, twisting under him as much as she could. “Hades!” she cried desperately. In her struggle she was able to get her arms free, breaking from his grasp. She managed to get one knee under her for leverage, but his hand was quick to pull it out from under her. The breath was knocked from her lungs as she hit the ground once more. He pressed his knee into the back of her thigh with all his weight, pinning her underneath him.

__

Apollo chuckled, carefree and unbothered. “He’s going to watch this.”

__

He wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. Persephone clawed at the dirt. In her vision she could see bright, white spots and the panic rose inside of her. She knew that if she lost consciousness it was over. 

__

_This isn’t how it ends. It can’t be._

__

Above her Apollo smiled right at the dark form of the God of the Dead. In the daylight he resembled a black hole, looking to swallow everything around him. However, Apollo knew he could do nothing. Not if it heightened her punishment if—_when_ she’s deemed guilty.

__

Again, Apollo laughed. His grip tightened around her neck and Persephone’s vision now clouded over with large, black spots. Her mouth jerked open and closed soundlessly in an attempt to pull oxygen into her lungs. 

__

She held fistfuls of sand, but no longer had the energy to grab at the dirt. With every coherent thought she had left she tried to summon anything that might save her in this moment, but nothing came. 

__

Finally, her small fingers desperately pried at his. With no avail, her body fell limp. When he let her neck go her head was angled sharply to the side. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when all she could see was Ares. He was crying, tears falling aggressively down his cheeks. He was yelling, though she couldn’t hear him. She didn’t want to.

__

She had failed.

__

Apollo tugged at her leggings, trying to get them off her. “Stay awake, Persie. I want you to remember this when you’re lying in a cell. I want you to _feel_ me in your memories.” The heat of his hands felt like it was setting her skin on fire, though its flames were more potent than that of the arrow’s. 

__

Her eyes closed, darkness slipping over her. Persephone thought that she should feel guilty, but she was _relieved_. Grateful, even, that she wouldn’t feel him as he crawled inside of her again. 

__

She thought that if she ever saw Hades again, she’d have to ask him if this is how death feels. Is it supposed to feel this comforting?

__

_This is it. I failed._

__

_This is it._

__

The arena faded away, and for a moment she smiled. His hands pried and pulled at her numb skin in a final show of ownership before he took his victory, but her awareness had faded, keeping her safe. Her nose filled with scents of chamomile and fresh baked bread. The memory of her mother’s arms around her was strong. _Open your eyes, Little Bean._

__

_It’s a new day._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry to say, I'll be going on a bit of a hiatus. I'm starting another job tomorrow so, in total, I'll be juggling three. Depression has also stripped me of almost every ounce of creativity. I feel like I need to put forth my best work, and unfortunately I won't be able to give that to you all right now. 
> 
> Reach out on discord if you'd like, and maybe I'll write a once off (or finish Wish, ugh) when I feel like myself for a couple hours. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for your support, it means the absolute world to me. See you all in a few weeks!


	12. Maidens & Wars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, friends!

The greenhouse was vast and sat upon her favorite hill, snuggled comfortably in the tall grass of Sicily, just a stone’s throw from her childhood home. It got the most direct sunlight throughout all hours of the day; a blessing and a curse, really. Here, her flowers grew strong, but the damp air usually hung so heavy on her shoulders that it made them ache, and the air was so thick—like soup—that it made it hard to breathe. It made the large space seem smaller than it was, like the walls were trying to close in on her.

This was her jail, her hell.

Persephone sat cross-legged in front of the window where her door should be—where it had been before _someone_ had stolen it. Her skin was like ice under her fingertips; the warm air that usually hugged her so tight seemed to cower away from her now. Under the bare skin of her feet she could feel the dirt. This, too, felt alien. In the greenhouse her plants were so well taken care of, they didn’t need much to thrive in the damp soil, but now the soil was dry and coarse, a lifelessness pressing into her soft skin like a bed of needles. 

The glass acted like a mirror, but it presented Persephone with a reflection of a goddess she didn’t know. The reflection’s body was bruised and bleeding, her head hanging at an awkward angle. The hair braided down the side of her face was a mess; matted with ichor and caked with dirt. Persephone’s hand went to her own hair, the reflection mirroring the movement, her shaking fingers trailing down her own braid, skating across the same mattes, the same dirt, and ending at the strange curve of her neck that was anything but natural. She frowned, the reflection frowning back at her.

Persephone cocked her head at the reflection, and it followed suit, like it should.

“Why am I here?” Persephone asked softly. A chill ran up her spine when the reflection did not mirror the movement of her lips, and instead cocked its head in the opposite direction, a deeper, concerned frown pulling at her lips.

Persephone slammed her eyes shut. “Why am I here?” she asked again, her voice louder than before, shaking in fear. Behind her eyelids she could feel the reflection staring at her and she pressed them closed tighter, afraid that it may try to crawl inside her head. This wasn’t a nightmare that she’d had before. 

_Clack._

She jumped at the sudden noise, her head whipping around to find the source of it. She scrambled to her feet, wobbling a little as she stood. 

_Clack! “Again!”_

Persephone turned again, this time so hard that she almost fell over. She knew that voice. “Ares?” she called, running along the length of the greenhouse, trying to find him. “_Ares?_”

_Clack! Clack! “Again! I know you can do better!”_

A flash of yellow caught her eye and she skidded to a halt. It was just beyond the confines of her prison, _just_ out of reach on the other side of the glass. “Ares?” she called out softly, pressing her forehead to the glass, tears burning her eyes. She recognized the scene playing out before her, and she knew Ares couldn’t hear her. 

On the other side of the glass, in the tall grass on the rolling hills of Sicily, Ares stood with his feet a shoulder’s width apart, staff in hand, blocking every strike nine year old Kore tired to throw at him. 

Persephone pressed her palm to the glass. “I’m sorry, Ares,” she sobbed quietly, “I’m so sorry I failed.”

.

_Clack!_

“Again!” shouted Ares.

Kore held the staff over her head with both hands and twirled it downwards, mimicking the overhead rib strike Ares had been trying to teach her for the last hour. She winced as the staff hit the same part of her ribs where she _knew_ a deep blue bruise was forming. 

_Clack!_ The staff connected with Ares’ as he blocked her again, the hit sending a jarring vibration through her body. She held her stance but felt a wave of exhaustion coursing through her on the heels of the pain ripping through her. 

She didn’t want to do this anymore.

His staff connected with hers again, another loud _clack_ piercing the air around them. With the sudden movement Kore’s eyes snapped up to meet Ares’ gaze. 

“Again!” he shouted, an amused smirk on his face. “I know you can do better!”

“_Stop!_” she demanded, tears welling in her eyes.

Ares placed the blunt end of his staff against her shoulder and pushed her back, knowing the playful move would only anger her. “Do it again.”

“I _can’t!_” she shouted angrily, stomping her foot to the ground. Almost as if to emphasize her point, a sharp spike shot up from the dirt in front of her foot, sailing through the air towards Ares.

Quickly, he moved to the side, stumbling back a few steps. The spike grazed his shoulder and managed to tear a hole through his shirt. If he hadn’t moved it would have surely pierced his chest. “What in the fuck was that?” he gasped, looking between the hole in his short and Kore with wide eyes. 

Kore’s hand flew to her mouth, the other still gripping tightly onto the staff, grounding her to the reality of what she had just done. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. She was sure, for a moment, he actually looked _afraid_ of her. “Ares,” she whispered, stepping back from him, “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze lingered a moment more on the large tear exposing his shoulder before a grin broke out across his face, his eyes flicking back to her and sparkling with intrigue. “Now _that_ was a neat trick,” he mused. He closed the distance between them and bent down to her height. “Anger fuels your fire, doesn’t it flower child?”

“No,” she mumbled. “No, that wasn’t me. It _couldn’t_ be.”

Ares stood at his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do it again,” he demanded.

“That wasn’t me!” she insisted.

He looked at her silently for a while, evident in his expression that he was debating how far he would push her. As he watched her, she almost seemed to grow smaller and more fearful. He knew that it wasn’t because of him—no matter how imposing he had always been she had never been afraid of him. He recognized her fear though. The same fear lingered in her as it did the first time he had set fire to the earth around him in his rage, engulfing his childhood bedroom and almost taking the house with it. Now, it was a skill he had mastered and used to his advantage, but back then he had felt like a monster. “Fine,” he relented before dropping his arms back to his sides. 

Kore released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. 

“You’re not getting off that easy, though,” said Ares, any hint of amusement gone from his face. He kicked Kore’s feet into a proper stance before getting back into position in front of her, holding his staff at the ready. “Again.”

She gaped at him, though she wasn’t totally surprised. He never went easy on her. She held the staff over her head once more, twirling it like he taught her. This time she really tried to hit him, graze him, catch him off guard, _anything_ to show him that she wasn’t weak.

Ares blocked it easily, connecting with her staff harder than before, the wood crashing into her ribs and pulling the breath from her lungs.

Kore huffed and threw the staff to the ground, petulantly crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know why we’re doing this,” she grumbled.

“You might need it one day,” he said, smiling smugly. 

“But I’m the Goddess of _Spring_,” groaned Kore. “I’m not a soldier. Mama wants me to be an eternal maiden—maidens don’t fight wars.”

“What about Artemis? Athena? Just because they’re maidens you think they don’t know how to fight?” Ares countered.

“I never said—”

“Artemis is the best marksmen I’ve ever met,” he interrupted her and held a hand up to silence her as he continued. “She can shoot a deer through the eye from a mile away, and she’s just as deadly in hand to hand combat. I’ve used Athena’s battle plans in more wars than I can count and she’s stood by my side through the thick of it. She’s the strongest Goddess I know.”

“But we’re _immortal_, Ares,” she protested.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t die.” 

“But mama said—”

“Your mother refuses to teach you the evil things about this world, Kore. That’s why I’m teaching you to defend yourself. One day someone might try to hurt you, and you need to be able to fight back. Don’t let men fight your battles, Lilac, you’re stronger than that. I’ll _make you_ stronger than that. Now, pick up your staff and do it again!”

.

Persephone’s face was still pressed to the glass, the surface under her fingertips wet with her tears and fogged with her shallow breath, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and slammed her eyes shut, expecting the goddess from the reflection to be standing behind her. 

“Persephone,” said a voice; a deep, rich baritone that brought her back to the silky sheets of Hades’ bedroom. The memory of waking up next to him, curled up in his arms, warmed the tips of her ears as an involuntary flush crept over her skin. 

Still, she turned hesitantly towards the voice, opening her eyes slowly. Before her stood Hades; his suit neatly pressed, hair perfectly pushed back away from his eyes, and his tie straight. The exact image of the man she left in the hallway.

She frowned, unable to believe it was him standing in front of her.

Nonetheless, he smiled. “Hi Sweetness.”

At the familiar sound of his voice, her composure cracked. Persephone jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him, desperate for him to be real. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wavering in time with the tears falling down her cheeks. 

Hades smiled warmly, wrapping a strong arm around her and softly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

She looked up at him, trying to piece together the words trapped in her throat. She took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is this—” she paused, stepping back from his embrace and wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly aware of the reflection of the broken goddess behind her, still eyeing her somberly. “Is this was death feels like?”

“What does it feel like, Persephone?”

“It’s cold,” she confessed. She looked around, taking in the space around her. A dark, dry soil started under her bare feet and stretched to the first bush just a few feet from her. The bush, too, was dry and wilted, close to death. It was full of deep, dark crimson roses. They were the same that had lived and died in her hair in the days after Apollo had left bruises across her skin. Beyond that her greenhouse seemed full of life, but the plants grew at awkward angles, doing their best to stay as far away from her as possible. “Is this where you go when you die?” she asked softly, tightening the grip on herself and dropping her gaze to the ground, afraid of his answer. 

“Persephone,” his voice trailed off, his eyes searching her face, “are you sure that you’re dead?” The last word hung heavy in the air. He stepped forward and placed a soft hand on her cheek, running the pad of his thumb over her icy skin. “I haven’t been called to bear witness.”

She looked up at him suddenly. “Then wh—then why are you here?”

“We’re here because you called us,” said Ares from beside her. 

Persephone looked quickly to her right and her hands flew to her face. “Ares,” she whispered his name in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, I messed up. I—” her voice cut off by a sob. Hades’ hand dropped from her cheek as Ares gathered her in the security of his arms. “I should have listened to you,” she cried. “I should have listened and not let my pride get the better of me.”

Ares held her while she cried, rubbing a hand softly up and down her back.

“Why am I here?” she sobbed into his chest.

“Why do you think?” he asked.

“Because I lost,” she said gravely, pulling away from him to meet his gaze with teary eyes. 

Persephone jumped at the deep rumble of his laugh. Her whole body vibrated with it, and she frowned at him. 

Ares shook his head and smiled affectionately down at her. “You didn't lose, Lilac, what other tricks to you have?"

“But Ares—” she started to protest, but Ares held up his hand to silence her—just like he had all those years ago. 

"Stop trying to fight like me, Kore. _Use your fucking powers._"


End file.
